


An Unscheduled Journey

by Bethann, Minniemoggie, Susana Rosa (SusanaR)



Series: AU of Legendary Friendship and Desperate Hours AUs [6]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angst, Comfort/Angst, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Humor, Mystery, Naughtiness, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:31:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/Susana%20Rosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir and Legolas both have received threats on their lives and are forced to take refuge in Aglarond until the danger passes, even though Faramir especially objects to leaving the White City just when he feels he is needed.  This is the story of their journey to Aglarond.  The direct sequel to this will deal with the visit itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Legolas' pov

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed our stories. We love hearing from you and hope you will like this continuation as well. The story will make more sense if you read the notes at the beginnings of this series.
> 
> If you like what you read you can find more stories like this one here:
> 
> https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/TheLeaflingChronicles/info
> 
> New members are always welcomed!

I look up at the sound of bird song, and my eyes go once again to the open doorway beyond which I can see the silver of the birch trees. Autumn has come to Ithilien and it is a truly beautiful time of year. As the trees prepare for their winter rest and animals hoard food for the winter ahead we elves are treated to a glorious display as leaves turn gold and red.

Those few of my folk who have made the journey south with me to begin the healing of this land are all busy, for we also have to make our preparations for winter. We already have flets built up in some of the birch trees but we are also building a hall of stone. This was Gimli’s idea and while initially I was reluctant to mar the land with such an unnatural structure I was eventually brought to realise that if I am to interact successfully with the men of this land I will need to have somewhere we can meet on equal terms. They, it seems, do not wish to climb into the trees so I must come down to the ground. I admit I had not thought of this as an issue, until Gimli pointed it out to me and Faramir also added his voice to the advice.

Before the quest I had had little to do with men apart from Estel and he of course was raised in an elven household and so did not seem so alien to me as others initially did. My year with the Fellowship changed me a great deal and opened my mind to the strengths and needs of mortal kind as well as my own kin and I should not have needed Gimli’s reminder to me that my new home should be welcoming and accessible to all those I hope to befriend. So we have our hall or at least part of it, most of the work having been done by Gimli and the band of dwarves who came south to repair Minas Tirith but we are still making changes and additions to it which hopefully will be completed before the first snows of winter arrive. At the very least the stone walls and slate roof will be a good place to store our supplies and if the weather is very cold we can shelter here as well.  
For now I use this part of the hall as my unofficial office which is where I carry out any business of my new demesne and there always appears to be something here which needs my attention when I would sooner be outside helping in the process of healing the land and making Ithilien-en-edhil a real home for those who will travel south to join my new venture.

Still, as the titular head of the colony I have responsibilities that have to take precedent over my own wishes which is why I am sitting here going through the paperwork on this fine autumn day. Already I have read and dealt with much of my recent correspondence and now am perusing the petitions and requests that have come in from Gondor for men to come to this part of Ithilien to farm and repopulate the land.

Farming is not something I am very familiar with. In the Woodland Realm we took the bounty direct from the forest itself and what we could not hunt or forage we bartered with our neighbours in Dale and Lake Town. I have spoken at length with Faramir and Estel about the type of farming that would be best suited here and how it might benefit my own folk as well as the men who wish to settle here and have given permission for several families who used to live here before being forced out by the dark forces of Mordor to return and begin farming again. I am less inclined to have those who seem to want to come only to plunder the natural resources of the land for their own gain and have in fact refused all requests for those interested in hunting, trapping, logging, and prospecting for valuable metals. Ithilien has enough scars that need to be healed she does not need more. 

Most of those who have been refused permission have accepted my reasoning if not with pleasure at least with understanding a few have been rather less accommodating and there have been some unpleasant exchanges not all are happy to have the elves here it seems. Still I should be accustomed to such prejudice and not wonder at it, after all my own Adar was hardly welcoming to those who came into his own realm and I try to always keep that fact in my mind when I have to deal with unpleasantness such as I have been subjected to recently. It is up to me and my folk to change people’s perceptions and to show them that different races with their differing needs can work and cooperate one with the other.

Thinking of my Adar makes me wonder when my seneschal and chief guard Captain Galathil will return. He has travelled north to Eryn Lasgalen to supervise the move of more of our folk to Ithilien. He should be back before winter sets in, but I will not be sorry if he is not. Galathil has not really taken to this new land and he still sees our mortal neighbours as being lesser beings even after our working together to destroy Minas Morgul. If he does not soon show a change in his attitude I will have to petition Adar to have him replaced although I do not think that it will be easy to persuade Ada to do it. Galathil was his appointment and I know he chose him because of his loyalty to the House of Oropher and because he is a skilled warrior and a good organiser rather than for his diplomatic skills.

I did not think when I first suggested to Galathil that he should be the one to go north that he would go with so little fuss. Perhaps he will spare me having to ask for his removal by requesting it to Adar himself. Of course it could also be he was keen to travel to Eryn Lasgalen to make a report on me in person to Ada. I am happy to think I will not be there to hear it for I cannot believe he will have much to say that will be positive about my actions and choices in the last months. Ah well there is naught to do but wait to see what transpires on his return and presently I have the far more amenable Captain Saellind acting in his place.

My musing on Galathil of course leads me onto thinking of what happened in the time leading up to and in the aftermath of the destruction of Minas Morgul. I was fortunate indeed to come away from there more or less intact for there was more evil within those walls than even Faramir, Estel, Gimli or I could ever have guessed.

 

Not only did they have a Fell Beast whose poison could kill even an elf if it got into their blood stream but the slaver Haashim was also more than he initially appeared. In the tower he had appropriated for his own use he was collecting all kinds of dark magical items. He had a sword to which he had somehow attached the hilt from one of the Nazgul blades. The original blade had disintegrated when Mordor fell but the hilt still retained some of the evil magic that had been poured into it by Sauron, and which could easily have cost me my immortal life had it not been for Gimli and Faramir.

 

Beside this there were books and scrolls containing all kinds of arcane materials and spells as well as other smaller but no less potentially fatal items that had been rescued or retrieved from the destruction in Mordor and Minas Morgul. I shudder to think what Haashim would have done with such things for he was wicked and cruel enough as it was. I know that Faramir and Estel believe that he was most likely acting as an agent for some other dark force possibly from Harad of Khand. 

Gimli destroyed many of the arcane pieces we found in his forge in Minas Tirith after they had been catalogued and sketched but Estel has retained the books and scrolls as they believe that there are probably more such items still out there and that the books may help us locate them so that they too might be put beyond the reach of folk who would use them for their own evil purposes.

Of course the city itself was also destroyed by Gimli and his ‘lads’, but something drew me back to the Morgul Vale a short time ago, just curiosity I expect. I wanted to see the ruins again and reassure myself that the evil that resided there had finally been vanquished. There was little left to see, although the broken stones and statues remain for Aragorn has placed an embargo on any of them being removed and reused for building elsewhere.

While I was there poking about amongst the debris I found an interesting piece of black stone, flecked with gold and red and I brought it back to Ithilien –en-edhil as a reminder of what happened. I use it as a paperweight now, which amuses me no end.

I would very much wish to be part of the group who go to search for the missing items that Estel believes may exist when the time comes, but am uncertain that Gimli would be agreeable to my being put at risk of being lost in a spirit world of the wraiths as almost happened with Haashim. I knew he was terribly worried about me but it was not until I read a letter he had written to my father, as I lay stricken by the encounter with Haashim that the full depth of his love and fear were made plain. The letter was never sent thank Eru and it was some time before Gimli allowed me to read it but it made me weep when I did so. Gimli had poured all his fears, anger, despair, and guilt at having failed to protect me into it. Alongside that there shone through the depth of his love and affection for the one he has made a member of his own family. To see it all laid out before me in that letter had a profound effect on me, and I have tried ever since to be more aware and more obedient to my guardian’s wishes for I would not wish to see Gimli as distraught as he so obviously was when he wrote that letter again.

I miss my dwarf, but it is selfish of me to say so, for he has his own responsibilities to Aglarond of which he has been made lord and his own folk to supervise and organize. I write to him when I can telling him of my own progress here in Ithilien and hoping that we will be together again very soon. I do not tell him everything however, for I know he would leave his own work and come here if he thought I had need of him and I want to prove to him and my Adar that I am more than capable of dealing with my own affairs without their interference or as they would no doubt term it, their help. 

 

And given the odd events of the last few weeks I suspect I would be hard put to it to keep him away, I have not even told Estel or Faramir of what has occurred although Galathil pleaded with me to do so. Despite the fact that he and Gimli are not fond of each other he was all for telling Aragorn or Gimli what has been happening but I told him I would do so myself. Not that I actually intend to. That is another reason I am pleased that Galathil has gone north. He would not be happy to know I have ignored his advice and kept quiet over what has been going on.

The fact is that I have suffered from several what I call close calls and near accidents recently: a branch breaking just as I rode beneath it, a rock fall, an arrow gone astray that almost took my ear off amongst them. Galathil, who is as suspicious as ever Brethilas was, says that they are not accidents but deliberate attempts on my life. It is a bit of a concern but is most likely nothing to worry over. At the most it is likely to be someone who is unhappy with the fact that elves have been given land here in Ithilien before they were, making their feelings known and they will desist soon enough if I ignore them. At least I hope so. Either way it would ill become the son of Thranduil to show any concern over such petty attempts at reprisal and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Which is why, while the autumn sunshine fills the glade beyond the door I sit indoors reading, writing and ordering the affairs of Ithilien-en-edhil for I want to prove to all those who believe that I am still a mere stripling and too young to take charge of my own affairs that they are mistaken even though I desperately want to be outside amongst the trees.

As I get near to the bottom of the latest pile of letters and posts that have come in the bag from Minas Tirith I find a folded note that has only my name inscribed on the outside. Even before I break the plain black seal I know what I will find. This is not the first of these letters, nor is it likely to be the last I fear. Someone has taken a distinct dislike to me and has not felt the need to conceal their…I think I have to term it hatred. 

When I opened the first such piece of foul vitriol and threats I confess to feeling quite ill. No one has ever felt the need to threaten my life in writing before and I find I am grateful for that. There is some additional menace at seeing something written down on parchment that makes it more real, somehow. I know I should throw it away burn it destroy it and not open it but of course I open it anyway then push it into a drawer with the others and go outside for I am need of company. It is at times like this when I wish I had taken Gimli up on his offer to stay with me until winter. But I had already taken more of his time than was fair and he has his own demesne to rule so I let him go to Aglarond and I am left to deal with this alone.

I take refuge in the trees and allow their song to calm my fêa. Adar spoke often of the burdens that leadership brings, and made every effort to see that I was prepared as thoroughly as possible for the day when I would take up new responsibilities, not that he ever expected me to choose to travel south and set up my own colony of elves to heal the land of Ithilien, yet I know he was proud of my decision to do so even though it meant we were to be parted again. He hopes to visit me here in the spring and I want everything to be ready for him when he does, but although I was well taught it was not until I found myself in sole charge here that I fully comprehended just how much effort it takes to rule even such a small colony as this one here in Ithilien-en-edhil and even here there are those it seems who were sooner I were gone or dead.

It is a sobering thought, I realise now that I should have spoken of these letters to Galathil. I know he has my best interests at heart and that he was suspicious enough of what was going on with the spate of accidents and near misses that have befallen me lately. He has served my father for more than two ages so I am sure he would have given me good advice but he still sees me as a child, someone not yet capable of making proper choices or decisions and so I kept silent. Perhaps I have proved his point for him by doing so, which is not a nice thought at all.

Still there is nothing that can be done until he returns and I may as well take advantage of his absence to spend another night beyond the borders of our encampment in a stand of red-golden culumalda trees. To do this I must avoid the guards who patrol at the edge of the glade where our flets and the great hall stand. I have done it before. When I was at home I often sneaked beyond the stronghold and walked in the forest at night. Of course I occasionally got caught and the consequences of that were unpleasant in the extreme. Here I am lord of my own demesne so that I do not face the same uncomfortable penalties at least not while Gimli is absent. Captain Galathil would very much like to have the right to deal with me as Gimli and Adar do, but fortunately for me he does not so he has to rely on intimidation and a very unsettling stare or the threat to write to Adar. But fortunately for me he is not here tonight so if I can slip past the sentries I will be fine. I can always claim to Captain Saellind that I was merely testing our defenses. He may believe me.

Either way it will be worthwhile because I will have spent the night in the trees I have come to love, and which seem to offer me the greatest comfort here in Ithilien.  
After we have eaten our evening meal I announce I am retiring to my flet and then slip away, duck the patrolling guard, who to be fair to him, is trying to keep unwelcome folk out not stopping me leaving. I watch the skies seeing Ithil for which this land was named rise and then as it sets see the first rays of Anor light the horizon after that I allow myself the luxury of stepping onto the path of dreams where I walk through the trees of Greenwood with my Adar.

I sleep for longer than I intend, and am rudely awoken by a stentorian shout from beneath my tree

“Lamb!”

Only one person has ever called me that and I am so surprised to hear his voice I almost fall out of the tree rather than climb down the trunk, for standing beneath my resting place is Gimli and beside him is Galathil.

I jump down to meet him.

“Gimli!”

My face is wreathed in a wide smile as I go forward for I am genuinely delighted to see my hirsute guardian. I lean down to embrace him and then leap backwards as he soundly boxes both my ears.

I am so surprised by the manner of our reunion that I fall backwards on my rump and then have to scramble to my feet as Gimli grabs my left ear, and hauls me upright.

 

“What is wrong, what have I done?” I plead as he tugs me off across the grass towards the central glade where the hall stands. “I do not understand.”

“Ye will understand soon enough laddie” Gimli harrumphs “and it might be wiser for ye to find out in the privacy of yon hall than stand out here discussing things.”

Since it is plain he is angry and upset I deem it wiser to allow him to encourage me towards the hall and he for a mercy lets go of my ear when we come within view of the perimeter guards so that I am able to at least walk in with some semblance of dignity which I seriously doubt will be long lasting. I am though all too well aware of the grins that my guard give me as they greet Gimli and of Galathil who is striding along by Gimli’s side and is wearing a very smug look on his face. 

Well that is something I can change. I give him my best Thranduilion scowl and demand to know what he is doing here.

“I sent you to Eryn Lasgalen”

Before Galathil can attempt to defend himself, Gimli growls, “he is doing what he was appointed to do, protecting the son of Thranduil Oropherion as he thinks best and ye would do well to remember my lad, that he gave his oath to your father first and it is to his king that he must answer should ought befall ye which he might have prevented. Captain Galathil did exactly as he should and I, and I am sure your Ada as well, are profoundly grateful for it. So ye may take that look off your face. “

Well that explains that then. Galathil, obviously tired of my intransigence, has gone to tell tales of me to my dwarven guardian. Really it is too much!

I do not have time to make further objections because I am being hustled into the hall and the door firmly closed behind me. It is deserted which tells me that Galathil and Gimli have been here before they came to find me. That raises another thought. How did they find me so easily?

As if in answer to my silent question, Galathil offers a simple, “Knowing your penchant for night time wanderings My Lord, Captain Saellind and I arranged to have guards placed beyond the perimeter of the clearing so that should you choose to go out at night. You would always be protected wherever you went. It was a simple matter to ask Saellind where you had settled last evening when we rode in this morning.”

I want very much to answer this as it should be, but with Gimli glowering at me I bite down on my first response and swiftly realise that I should have known better than to believe I was so easily able to evade warriors of the calibre Adar chose to accompany me south. I wonder how many years I have rejoiced in being able to sneak out unobserved as I thought while all along I was being ‘protected’ it makes me feel quite foolish.  
Galathil saves my further blushes by asking for permission to leave.

“You and Lord Gimli will have much to speak about.” He says, somewhat ominously as he departs and I am left regarding my fulminating guardian. It does not take Gimli long to go onto the attack.

“The Captain tells me that there has been some strange goings on here, since I left ye. Why have ye not told me about them?”

I shrug, “I suppose you are referring to those mishaps that Galathil got so excited about. They were nothing. I was not even hurt. Galathil is seeing problems where there are none. I am sorry he involved you and got you so worried that you had to race here. For as you can see I am quite well.”

Perhaps not the wisest of responses but it is too late to retract it now and I know I have made a grave error when Gimli’s brow lowers and he puts his hands on his hips and scowls at me.

“Mishaps ye say? A landslip, a misdirected arrow and Mahal knows what else ye have not told yon Captain! Well ye will not think to bamboozle me elfling. I can see that despite what ye say there is something more floating in that feather head of yours so ye may as well tell me now and save yourself the trouble of trying to pretend that nothing is amiss. Ye never have learned to dissemble. Out with it now!”

I hesitate, but Gimli is right. I cannot lie to him, and those threatening letters in my desk are not going to go away. In some respects I am relieved that Galathil took matters into his own hands and took the decision over what to do away from me.

 

“There is something else” I begin, I pull open the drawer and lift out the notes, “Do not be angry with me Gimli, saes.” I say as I hand them over and await his reaction.


	2. Gimli's pov

I stand holding no less than ten opened letters in my trembling hand as I continue to glare at my now very concerned charge. It is all very well for him to beg me not to be angry, but I promise nothing at all even though his eyes have become as wide as saucers in an attempt to soften me. I’ll admit there are times that such tactics work on me, but this is not one of those times. I take a deep breath and brace myself for what I am about to read. 

As I read the letters one after another I feel the blood drain from my face and my knees grow weak. The languages is threatening and the intention of the writer crystal clear. The vitriol and pure hatred is easy enough to read and the threats of violence are not disguised. Whoever wrote these letters would like to see my elf gone from here, and preferably dead, a thought that makes me light headed for a moment. I do not trust myself to speak at first but when I finally do, my voice sounds strangely calm in complete contrast to how I feel at the moment.

“Captain Galathil did not mention these letters,” I say. “Why do ye suppose that is?”

Legolas looks as if he has no intention of answering the question, but when I raise an eyebrow he changes his mind and whispers almost too softly for me to hear him.

“He did not know about them.”

I swear under my breath and shake my head. 

“Who did ye tell then?” I close my eyes tightly and brace myself for the inevitable answer. When it does not come right away, I raise my voice a little. “Speak up, elfling!”

He flinches at my tone, but is not forthcoming with an answer until I take one step toward him. He then takes a step back and finally admits the truth.

“No one. I…I didn’t tell anyone about them.”

I swear again and look up at my charge, who is now biting his lip nervously. He looks contrite enough now, but it is only because he knows the jig is up and his cool nonchalance of earlier is no longer a viable response. Wide eyed repentance is his new tactic. Unfortunately for him, I am far too angry and far too terrified to be swayed by such things just now. This was no thoughtless, impulsive action, but a deliberate, calculated attempt to deceive all who have his best interest at heart and hide the truth from those who are meant to protect him from harm. It did not just recently come up either, for the first letter is dated over two months ago!

I feel the ire rise in my chest, though I realize it is not rage alone that makes my heart race and my face grow hot, but sheer terror as well, something that is made worse when I recall his casual attitude of moments ago. How could he read these terrible threats and then decided they weren’t worth mentioning to anyone? I am so furious and upset that my hands are shaking with it and my head feels ready to explode. I find I am clenching my fists to keep from laying into him immediately. Not that that isn’t an option for later, but right now I know I need to leave or risk causing him more damage than the writers of these letters threatened. I am too angry and distressed to speak or react, and I do not like feeling so out of control. 

I need to calm down. I force myself to take a deep breath as my hand automatically goes to my pocket in search of the only thing that can help me right now now, and I am more than relieved to feel the familiar wooden bowl. Before I can even begin to think of how to respond I need to pull my thoughts together. I need a smoke. I do not trust my actions otherwise. But before I go I have one thing to say. Pointing at my elf I speak in my most severe voice.

“Sit down and do not move a muscle until I get back. I will be gone exactly ten minutes.” The time it takes to smoke a bowl of pipeweed. I help him to comply by means of grasping his arm and forcing him none too gently into the chair before pointing a finger in his face.

“If ye know what is good for ye, ye’ll be just as ye are when I return,” I warn, “Do not test me on this, elfling.”

I wait long enough for him to nod once and then I stalk out of the room and out of the stone shelter, where I pace in front of the main entrance trying to get control of my emotions. After a few minutes of rapid pacing, I stop to light my pipe, taking a deep drag and then drawing the smoke deep into my lungs before releasing it slowly. As the smoke is released, so is the worst of the tension, and I find I am able to think more clearly again. 

It has been a very trying and worrisome couple of days. When my own guard captain showed up at my office door to inform me that an elf had arrived and wished an audience with me, I would never in a million years expected it to be Captain Galathil. I am sure I have never been quite so surprised in my life when I saw him standing there, and not only that, but admitting that he had come to procure my help. For Galathil to admit to needing the assistance of a mortal, I knew he must have been desperate, so it was then that I began to get worried. 

His explanation of what he wanted from me did nothing to make me feel any better. 

“I came to see if something had befallen you or delayed you, my lord, since Prince Legolas sent you his message by eagle over three weeks ago. I had thought to see you in Ithilien before now.” He told me. He seemed in earnest but I was soon to find out this was just his way of telling tales on his prince without having to come out and make any actual accusations, for he knew very well I had received no message. 

“Message? What message is that Captain?” I was confused, for the last letter I had from my elfling was just greetings and news of the doings in Ithilien. Nothing of great import. “ I have heard nothing at all from the lad. Is anything amiss?”

His expression barely changed, other than his lips tightening a bit, but he wasted no time in getting to the point.

“That is as I feared. He promised to inform you of what has been happening, but evidently it slipped his mind.” He raised a skeptical eyebrow as he said this and then added in case I did not understand his meaning, “at least a dozen times.”

It was then that Galathil told of everything that was going on, and of his great concern for my elf’s safety. Hearing of all the ‘near misses’ that had been happening to my lad made me quite ill, for I knew that Captain Galathil very likely only knew of a fraction of them. 

I thanked Galathil and set aside my work right away, for there was no time to waste. As Legolas’ guardian it is my duty to keep him safe no matter how impossible he tries to make it for me to do so. 

“I shall be ready to go as soon as I can inform someone that I am leaving Captain, if it suits ye to leave immediately,” I offered. “I would ask ye to stay and rest for the night, but it seems prudent to make haste.”

“I agree and will be prepared to go when you are ready,” he agreed with me. “I hope you will be more successful at persuading my prince to take action, Lord Gimli. He seems to listen to your advice better than any other.”

The swift ride was spent with Galathil filling me in on everything he knew about what had been happening with my elf. He evidently had had several narrow escapes, all of which he brushed off with very little thought. He also told me of the promises that were made to inform me, Faramir, or Aragorn, none of which were fulfilled. Galathil had been beside himself trying to figure out what to do, and so took advantage of being sent off to Eryn Lasgalen to come to Aglarond instead to fetch me. For the first time I was beginning to have some faith in the elven guard captain. He may have his problems, but he does care about his prince and that goes a long way with me. I made sure I thanked him sincerely for keeping me updated on what was going on with my charge, since clearly I couldn’t count on Legolas to do so.”

As I stand here smoking and attempting to control my scattered emotions I am once again reminded of Galathil’s great concern, for as soon as he spies me standing outside he signals to Captain Saelind and hurries over to speak to me. 

“Is there any way we can assist you, Lord Gimli?” he asks, though I know he is mainly anxious for news of what has been decided about his prince.

“Aye there is, Captain,” I tell him, “Prince Legolas will be accompanying me first to Minas Tirith for a brief audience with King Elessar and then back to Erebor to remain with me there until such a time as these hoodlums who have been threatening him have been rounded up and dealt with.”

“Prince Legolas has agreed to this?” Saelind asks, looking a little skeptical.

“He is not required to agree with it,” I firmly state, “he has agreed to heed me as he would his own father and he would not dream of disobeying his King over such an order. I have no intention of asking his opinion on the matter.”

Stoic faced Galathil actually smiles at this, something I never thought I would live to see. 

“I hope you are able to persuade him to go peacefully, my lord. It would not be easy to get him to go against his will.” He points out.

“Ah well I am surprisingly persuasive, so ye needn’t worry on that account,” I assure them, causing them to exchange amused glances. “While I am discussing the matter with your prince, I would appreciate it if ye could arrange for our travel. He will need some personal items to be packed, enough for a month’s stay. We will also need horses made ready, a full guard detail and a swift rider to take a message to King Elessar and tell him that we seek an emergency audience with him. Have the messenger to bring this letter along and see that it is given to the King.”

I hand over one of the opened parchments that is still in my hand to Galathil, who eyes it questioningly. I indicate that he might read it and watch as his eyes grow wide and then his brows lower into a scowl when he does so. Obviously there has been much going on here that he knew nothing about, something that should not be true considering he is the captain of the guard. 

“Just so,” I say knowingly. “Can ye make the arrangements quickly Captain? I’d like to leave here as soon as possible, preferably within the hour.”

“We shall arrange it,” Galathil promises, while Saelind nods his agreement.

They turn to hurry to do my bidding while I sigh and tap the ashes from my pipe. It was a fast ten minutes, and I am still not feeling much calmer, but since there is no time to waste this day I go back inside to confront my wayward charge. I take one more deep breath before entering the hall again. 

I find Legolas where I left him, though he starts when I enter the office. I have not even raised my voice as of yet, but I can see that he is extremely wary of me, and no wonder. I have been upset with him before over his careless disregard for his own health and safety, but this is a whole new category of reckless behavior. To me it is proof that he may not be ready to be left unsupervised in capacity as Lord of Ithilien at all if his decision making abilities do not improve quickly and dramatically. When I do not speak immediately, he gets to his feet and tries to plead his case.

“Gimli I…”

I hold up a hand to silence him, for I am in no mood to listen to contrived explanations just at the moment. There is no possible reasoning he could come up with that will make his actions, or lack thereof, excusable. Seeing the look on my face he clamps his lips together and subsides back into the chair.

“I will speak first,” I inform him. “Ye will listen very carefully to what I have to say and only then will ye have the opportunity to explain your actions if ye feel the need to do so. Is that clear?”

He nods.

“Good! First I will say that I have never been quite so upset and disappointed with your actions before, for to ignore such threats for such a long time is both foolish and irresponsible. This was no simple case of forgetting yourself or getting carried away in the moment, but was a deliberate act of hiding something of extreme importance from those who are meant to keep ye safe. And if that isn’t enough, ye have resorted to-for all intents and purposes-lying to Captain Galathil and then to me by trying to play the situation down when I first confronted ye about it.”

“I am sorry, Gimli. It is just…” he begins, but lets his voice trail off when I offer him a withering glare.

“I said hush, child, I am not finished yet. I have sworn to your Adar that I would watch out for ye and care for ye to the best of my ability, but ye make that impossible to do when ye dinna give me critical information I need to know to do so. I am not a dwarf who goes back on his word, so I vow to ye now that if something like this ever happens again-if ye ever decide to withhold such vital information from me or from your guard captain then I will personally escort ye back to Eryn Lasgalen and give King Thranduil my opinion that ye are not yet ready to be left to your own devices.”

It is painful to see the shocked and hurt expression on his face, but I force myself to continue, even though I already see tears standing in his eyes at my words, something that is made worse when I hand over the worst of the threatening letters and insist that he read it to me out loud. He takes the parchment and looks at me pleadingly, but I am determined he will recall this day and the importance of taking better care of himself in the future. He struggles to get through the letter and by then end tears have started to leak down his face, and I feel like weeping myself when I hear the written words of one who would like to hurt one that I care for so much. I have to swallow a time or two before I can speak again. 

“I do not want to hurt ye, lamb, but your life is more important to me than your pride, so I mean every word that I said before. If ye do not wish to find out that I am in earnest about returning ye home, I would suggest ye never do anything like this again. I will not be responsible for your death! Now do ye have something ye would like to say before we continue this discussion?”

He swipes at his eyes with one sleeve and winces visibly, no doubt realizing that a good part of the rest of this discussion will involve very little talking, but evidently he has changed his mind about whatever he was going to say before. He shakes his head in answer to my question.

“Nothing Elvellon, except to say that you are right of course. I…I just didn’t think it was so serious. And I am truly sorry.”

“I can see ye are, and I accept your apology, lamb, but I also feel I must warn ye that ye will be a great deal sorrier before we are through here.”

He cannot be surprised, but he pales anyway, perhaps realizing that he may have stepped into more bother with me than he ever has before, but he immediately stands up when I signal him to do so just the same. I waste no time in taking his place and then unceremoniously yanking him into place across my lap. He yelps in surprise, but tries very hard not to struggle, even when I proceed to peel his leggings down to his knees. His whole body tenses in anticipation of what is to come, but for now I only grasp him tightly about the waist and pull him in closer before resting my other hand on his now very vulnerable rear end. It is not his favorite way to carry on a conversation, but I still have something to say before we get started.

“Ye should consider yourself lucky, young elf, for if ye did not have to sit a horse as soon as we are finished here, ye would be feeling more than the flat of my hand, I promise ye.”

I do not give him an opportunity to ask any questions before I bring my right hand down hard, leaving a very visible bright hand print on his pale skin. I am careful not to lose control, for I do not wish to damage him, but I repeat the process over and over until his backside and thighs are glowing red and he is frantically promising better behavior in the future. I harden my heart to his pleas and grit my teeth in order to continue, for this must be something he will remember for a very long time. When I am finished he will know very well that such insane actions are not acceptable and will never be tolerated again. I take no pleasure in causing him pain, but it is far better than seeing him take such terrible threats to his life so casually. It will not happen again if I can do something to prevent it! 

I stop my task only long enough to grasp his right wrist in my left hand when he automatically throws a hand back in a futile attempt to stop the onslaught. After that I lift a knee and adjust him further forward and apply light rapid-fire slaps to his lower bottom and upper thighs where he will think of me for a few days whenever he attempts to sit down. He is now sobbing openly, and for the first time in our acquaintance, my hand is actually aching from the effort. Even so I feel he should be grateful for the leniency I have shown in not taking his own hairbrush or quiver strap to him for such a serious transgression. Besides that a heated backside is far preferable to a cold grave, which is where he might have been headed, had Captain Galathil and I not intervened. 

Still I realize I have not been easy on him and he will no doubt be stunned by my actions and in need of comfort. I rub his back for a moment and give him time to catch his breath and realize it is over before helping him to slide from my lap and carefully reorder his clothing. I stroke his hair and whisper nonsensical reassurances as he buries his face in my lap and continues to weep for several minutes. When the weeping subsides into soft hiccoughing sobs, I lift his face with one hand and look deep into his red-rimmed eyes., speaking in a very serious voice.

“This sort of thing will not happen again, Elfling. I love and care for ye too much to let ye behave so irresponsibly. Is that plain?”  
He nods as fresh tears slide over his cheeks.

“Good lad,” I tell him, kissing him on the forehead. “Now ye have fifteen minutes to wash your face and straighten your hair. Ye will ride with me to make a report to Aragorn and then return with me to Aglarond where I can keep an eye on ye until such a time that I deem it safe for ye to return here.”

“But Gimli…I do not wish to leave…”

“Just now what ye wish means very little to me. Ye will do as I say without further discussion. Ye have made a promise to obey me as ye would your own father, and this is not something that is optional.”

I pat his cheek to soften the words, but I have no intention of softening my stand.

“Fifteen minutes,” I remind him.

I try very hard to remain firm, but I cannot help feeling a little sympathy for him having to face his folks in such a state, so I attempt to help him gather himself together. I fish a large handkerchief that I am carrying in one of my pockets-a habit I picked up from traveling with the hobbits-and attempt to mop his face for him. After that I advise him to go splash water on his face and try to straighten his hair a bit. When he returns, he appears to be less disheveled, but evidence of tears is still clear on his face. I am sure no one will question him about it, but he will realize that Captain Galathil and Captain Saelind will be fully aware of what has taken place between us since they were both here when I arrived and they are quite aware of our relationship. 

But there is no help for that now. I trust that neither of them would be so indiscreet as to comment. But rather than mentioning this, I just assure him that he looks fine.

As it turns out Captain Galathil has managed to arrange everything and is already awaiting our arrival, along with several guards and a pack animal, who are prepared to move out at my word. Captain Saelind will remain behind to see to business at home while Galathil and his guards accompany us to Minas Tirith and then back to Aglarond. If he feels pleased with himself for accomplishing what he had hoped, he does not show it in his expression, at least not that I can tell. He is all business and cool efficiency as he suggests that Legolas speak to Saelind to give him any final instructions for what must be done in his absence. Legolas looks a question at me and I nod my consent for him to do so, though I remind him that he should make it quick. The sooner I have him safely ensconced in my caves the happier I will be.


	3. Gimli's pov continued  and Faramir's pov

Gimli's pov continued:

 

Very soon our company is riding swiftly toward Minas Tirith, with my lad safely surrounded by guards. Even though he does not complain of any discomfort I cannot help cringing in sympathy for him as the pace increases, for he must be extremely sore riding so fast and for so long, for it will take the better part of a day to arrive and I have no intention of stopping if it can be helped. I have no way of knowing where these would be assassins might be hiding. We only stop very briefly to rest the horses and allow them to drink and then we are on our way again. 

 

Just outside the city gates we are met by two Citadel guards. One takes the elven guards and the horses on through the main gate, while the other one leads Legolas and myself on foot into a secret underground passage. Inside we follow a labyrinth of tunnels that lead to the Citadel itself. After what seems like miles and miles of uphill walking, we find ourselves stepping out of the darkness and into the bedchamber of the guest suite we normally share when we visit the White City. 

 

“Our King has requested an audience with you both immediately,” Our host tells us “but you are to remain here and await his arrival. He will come to you here.”

 

The Citadel guard bows himself out of the room, leaving me alone with my exhausted and still obviously distraught charge. No doubt he is concerned about Aragorn’s response to the news we have come to share with him, for he will not be any happier than I was at hearing that Legolas has been less than forthcoming about something so important. But he has already paid the price for his transgression and I can manage Aragorn if he feels the need to attempt any further retribution. I try to set the lad’s mind at ease.

 

“ Ye needn’t worry, lad, I assure him, “We are only here to tell Aragorn what is going on so that he can arrange for something to be done about it. It is his duty to see that such things are taken care of, but he will need ye to tell him all the details so that he can take appropriate action. Just relax, lad.”

 

“Yes, Gimli,” he says, but he still tenses when the door opens and Aragorn slips in, looking greatly relieved to see us. 

 

“I thought it best that no one should know of your presence in the city,” he explains even as his healer’s eyes scan Legolas, no doubt checking on the state of his well-being. When he has assured himself that the lad is looking well and undamaged other than what is to be expected, he pulls Legolas into a strong embrace. 

 

“Thank the Valar you are all right,” Aragorn says. “I was terribly worried that something would befall you on the road before you arrived. It is a relief to see you both safe.”

 

He releases Legolas and turns to include me as well, embracing me and thumping me on the back. I smile and return the favor, reaching up to ruffle his hair as he releases me. Even under such trying circumstances, it is good to see him again. 

 

“And we are happy to be here as well, laddie,” I tell him. “Thank ye for seeing us on such short notice. We would not have bothered ye at such an hour had I not felt it was an urgent matter. I am assuming ye read the letter I sent ahead of us?”

 

“I did,” he says a bit disapprovingly. “You should have told me about this sooner, Legolas. It could have been very helpful since it seems that you and my Faramir have managed to make the same enemies. It might have saved us some trouble had you bothered to mention it. What exactly were you thinking hiding something like this?”

 

I save Legolas having to answer by asking a question of my own.

 

“What do ye mean Faramir has the same enemy? Has he received such letters as well?”

 

“And several attempts on his life,” Aragorn nods. “Eowyn and Elboron have already been sent away, and Faramir will be leaving at first light for Rivendell. He needs to be out of harm’s way while we search for the culprits, even if he does not exactly agree with me on that decision.”

 

This last line is delivered just as Faramir, who obviously has been informed or our arrival, quietly enters the room.

 

“I wish to help to find the guilty party,” Faramir says, “something I cannot do from such a distance.”

 

“I do not approve of your manner of trying to help, my son,” Aragorn says before offering Faramir a warning glance. “I believe I have already made it clear that I do not wish to discuss this with you again.”

 

“You have, and I am preparing to do your bidding, Adar, but perhaps Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir will not like having an unexpected guest thrust upon them.”

 

I suddenly recall that Queen Arwen’s twin older brothers have not always been favorites with young Faramir. I believe things have improved a bit since the birth of little Elboron, but perhaps not to the extent that the lad would like to live with them for an extended period of time, especially without the support of his wife or father. I can at least help him out there.

 

“You are quite welcome to stay with me in Aglarond, lad,” I offer. “I think ye would be quite as safe as ye would be in Rivendell and it is closer as well. If your King agrees of course.”

 

Faramir looks visibly relieved at the idea and glances at Aragorn who appears to be considering this. 

 

“It suits me, if you would prefer it, Faramir,” Aragorn decides, “but only if you agree to listen to Gimli and heed him just as you would me. You may take the rest of the night to make a decision.”

 

“Thank you, Adar, but I do not need the rest of the night,” Faramir says, “I will go with Lord Gimli. As he says it is closer, and I would enjoy spending time with him and Legolas as well and it will be a good chance to experience the famous dwarven hospitality I have heard so much about.” Here he turns to me. “I very much appreciate the invitation, Gimli.”

 

“Then you can all leave as soon as I have asked Legolas a few questions and you have all spent a few hours resting,” Aragorn says. 

 

Legolas is a little reluctant to give a detailed account of everything that has happened over the last couple of months, especially with me listening, but there is nothing to fear on my account. We have already dealt with the situation, and I have no intention of revisiting it no matter what I find out that I didn’t already know. Still it is difficult listening to Legolas tell of so many close calls and I have to bite my lip to keep from commenting. Aragorn shows impressive restraint, for he only listens carefully, asking only what is needed to draw the lad out to get the full story. He doesn’t offer any opinions or judgments at all, which tells me that either Arwen or Faramir have probably had a talk with him about controlling his temper before we arrived. Whatever the case, he is a picture of self-control and restraint, and only thanks Legolas for answering his questions so thoroughly. 

 

Faramir listens intently as well, making an occasional comment here and there and asking a few questions himself and then they briefly compare what Legolas has told them with what they already know. Faramir seems intrigued by this information and no doubt would spend the rest of the evening mulling it over and trying to come to a conclusion, but Aragorn puts an end to that line of discussion by lifting his hand.

 

“Never mind, Faramir, I will pass the information on to those who need to know,” he says, “There is nothing you need to do-either of you- other than to prepare for an extended vacation. You will leave it to others to figure out what is going on and deal with it.” 

 

Next he turns to me, showing that the topic is now closed as far as Faramir and Legolas are concerned. 

 

“I would like a private word with you Gimli, if you please.”

 

“By all means,” I answer, and then follow him out of the bedchamber and into the shared living space of the suite. Once he has closed the door between us, he speaks softly so as to keep our conversation private. 

 

“I only wanted to warn you about my son,” he tells me almost in a whisper. “Faramir may seem to be cooperative and compliant at the moment, but he has a tendency to say what he thinks others wish to hear and then doing whatever he has a mind to. He was very indignant about being sent away and strongly disagreed with my decision to do so at all. He has it in his head that he should be the one to catch the criminals, and even managed to convince his guards to let him act as ‘bait’ in an attempt to solve the situation. Just because he is polite and sunny now does not mean he has forgotten his original plan. I love the boy dearly, but I do not trust him to use good judgment when it comes to his own safety. You will have to watch him closely.”

 

I smile ruefully at that, for I think I have a good idea how Aragorn is feeling. It is not an easy thing to have in your care someone who has little regard for what is in their own best interest. Faramir is in truth no better than Legolas when it comes to that, even though he was quick to advise Legolas to do exactly as I have bidden him and remain hidden until it is safe to return to Ithilien. His concern for the lad evidently far exceeds his concern for himself. But I do have experience in such things at least, so I do what I can to ease Aragorn’s concern.

 

“There is no need to worry. I know those caves like the back of my hand by now and I know every way in and out of the place. It is no trick to keep the entrances guarded.”

 

“Thank you friend Gimli,” he reaches out to grasp my shoulder. “and Gimli…please remember…well remember that he has not been kindly treated for most of his life. He would not thank me for saying so, but he does have certain…fears.”

 

I nod, understanding his meaning. I have seen on him evidence of severe physical abuse, and I know enough about Faramir’s past to realize the scars he wears were not all inflicted by the enemy. Many were meted out or at least ordered by one he should have been able to trust never to hurt him.

 

My no nonsense-sometimes hot-tempered friend wishes me to be gentle with his son. It is an amusing, and touching thought. 

 

“I will take good care of him, lad,” I promise, patting Aragorn on the arm. “He is the son of my sworn brother, and I have come to care for him a great deal. All will be well if it is within my power to make it so.”

 

Aragorn thanks me again, and then we return to the bedchamber where we find Legolas and Faramir in quiet but intense conversation. Aragorn encourages Faramir to finish preparing for the journey and then to rest the few hours we have left before dawn. He then bids Legolas and me goodnight and a safe journey for he will not be around to see us off in the morning in order to keep our departure as secret as our arrival. Then he exits the room, taking his son with him, and leaving me alone with my elf.

 

Legolas looks completely spent which is not surprising. It has been a rather harrowing day for him, for it was a long difficult ride no doubt made longer and more difficult by the rather serious ‘discussion’ we had just before leaving Ithilien. He hasn’t complained, at least within my earshot, but I can tell by his stiff movements that he is far from comfortable even now that we are no longer riding. 

 

“A hot bath might do ye some good, Lamb, and then ye should sleep while ye can,” I advise him. I rifle through my pack and then toss him a small tin of ointment. “It is good for muscle aches and sunburn. Perhaps ye can make good use of it.”

 

He attempts to scowl, but he ends up only looking more relieved than anything. Finally he gives up all pretenses and offers me a grateful look.

 

“Yes, Gimli, I am sure I will find a use for it…only…well it is just…”

 

Here he makes me laugh by flushing and squirming and then glancing shyly up at me. I prevent him having to make his request by answering him before he works up the nerve to ask. 

 

“Yes, elfing I will help ye apply it, and no I will not tell anyone.”

 

He flushes deeper still, but smiles and kisses my cheek before heading off to the bathing chamber.

 

“Thank you Elvellon.”

 

XXXXXXXX

Faramir's POV:

 

'Prepare for an extended vacation?' I marvel to myself, too taken aback by my father's incredible high-handedness at first to even react. Still, I know Aragorn cares for me deeply, and more, that he is most often imperious only for the cause of protecting me or advancing my interests. It is a welcome change from my past experiences with Lord Denethor, so I cannot help but return my father's exasperated smile with a fond (if slightly indignant) expression of my own. 

 

I shake my head in mingled disbelief and fond annoyance as Aragorn and Gimli leave the room, then turn to Legolas with a frustrated smile. "I have absolutely no idea what it is that my father has to say to Gimli that he does not wish for us to hear. I am fairly sure that I will not like whatever it is." 

 

"Well, that is almost a certainty." Legolas agrees, and manages a small smile, though it is clearly an effort for him. Despite my own dismay at Legolas' recent ill-reasoned discretion, both for the increased risk to my older-yet-younger heart-brother and for the time we've lost in discerning the identity of our mutual foe, I cannot help but feel sorry for him and wish to give him comfort. In the time that I have known him, I have seen that Legolas is nearly always his own worst critic. Well, at least once he realizes that he has made a mistake. With that in mind, I convinced my father to keep a rein on his own temper when word first reached us of these threats against Legolas earlier this evening. 

 

Besides, if Aragorn was furious at the thought of how much danger Legolas had put himself in, then Gimli must have been even more so. Judging by Legolas' stiff gait and the way he is avoiding chairs, I think it likely that his backside bears the evidence of how worried Gimli was, just as mine yet pains me as a result of Aragorn's upset over my clever plan to catch the assassins threatening me. Well, threatening both of us, apparently. 

 

It is not that I don't understand why Aragorn and Gimli want us to be someplace safer until the culprits can be identified and apprehended. However, I am one of the people who would normally be overseeing the hunt for a murderous conspiracy in the heart of Gondor. Sending me away will harm that purpose rather than aid it. Legolas, on the other hand... 

 

My dear elven cousin is an an incredibly skilled and doughty fighter with centuries more of battle experience than I will ever have. But he lacks my contacts in Gondor, and my practice at teasing out subterfuges off of the battlefield. This is not his kind of fight, and so I agree with Gimli's decision to take Legolas to Aglarond. 

 

"Faramir?" Legolas asks, noticing my distraction and reacting with concern despite his own unsettled state. 

 

"Please pardon my wool-gathering." I apologize, silently chastising myself for having lost sight of my goal to put Legolas more at his ease. I go the sideboard and pour both of us a cup of cool mint flavored water. "I am somewhat worried by the prospect of going on a....vacation." I confess, realizing even as I say so, that it is surprisingly the truth. 

 

Legolas drinks his water and then smirks at me. "You've faced fell beasts and orcs and all manners of deadly foes, Faramir, and yet it is the prospect of a vacation which gives you pause?" 

 

I chuckle, as put that way it does sound a little ridiculous. Less ridiculous is my concern that Gimli - and his family- will not wish to host a strange human. Legolas they have taken into their hearts as their own kin, and will undoubtedly be as glad to see him as Aragorn, Arwen, and I always are. 

 

My perceptive friend lays a reassuring hand on my arm. "Faramir. Gimli invited you to join us at his home because he cares for you, and wishes your company during this, uh, this dangerous time." 

 

I lay my hand over his own in thanks. Then I smile ruefully, "Well, even before we arrive at Aglarond there must be the journey there." 

 

Legolas winces a bit at that. Most people wouldn't have seen his well-hidden dismay, but we have spent a great deal of time together under sometimes very stressful circumstances. 

 

I offer him a reassuring smile, "I doubt that Gimli will further reprimand us, and his mood is likely to improve. He seemed quite resolved to make the best of the situation, when he was speaking with Ada-Aragorn." At least I hope that Gimli will not be short with us. As I remember very clearly from when he learned that I had been taking stimulants with the side effect of preventing my blood from clotting in the event of injury right before we went into battle, Gimli's displeasure does not lend a comfortable atmosphere to any venture. Still, Legolas and I have both, once again it seems, been thoroughly punished for our mistakes. Once that is over, Lord Gimli has in the past always taken an admirably friendly 'water under the bridge' approach, going so far as to trouble himself to put Legolas at his ease. 

 

I clap Legolas reassuringly on the shoulder. "It will be good to travel with you and Gimli again, in any case. I have felt alternatively lonely and longing to be alone here in the citadel, the past few days. Eowyn was sent to Dol Amroth as a consequence for having aided me by convincing my most responsible guards' wives to ask their husbands to be off duty the day that my other guards and I set a trap for our assailants by making it known around the city that I would be riding on a little-traveled path on Mount Mindolluin that day to visit and inspect the status of several isolated goat herds. Aragorn and Arwen have both been quite concerned over me." In truth, I felt almost smothered with parental attention. And beyond that, I am surrounded by my poor disgraced guards. 

 

Legolas inclines his head, interested despite himself. "How did that plan fail? Drawing out the assassin, I mean?" 

 

I smile grimly. "It did not completely fail. We learned that the assassins themselves were simply hired by someone else, a man who hid his face and may very well himself only be an intermediary for whoever is truly behind this trouble." All of that risk, to learn so little. "Aragorn was not best pleased by the whole affair," I add. 

 

"I am sure he was not." Legolas agrees, hiding a laugh. I share a rueful smile, and then explain, hoping that this will in part ease my friend's feeling that it is he alone who is called to book for similar dangerous and ill-considered gambles, "Aragorn explained in great detail my errors in judgment and the worry I caused him and Arwen," and that part had actually made me feel rather guilty. I had not truly taken their feelings into account. I had known that Aragorn would be angry that I had gone and done something which I knew he would not approve of. I didn't realize that his anger was truly worry, though I should have. 

 

"Aragorn spent what felt like an eternity paddling me, that I might take this lesson to heart," I confess with a blush. "I somewhat dread this trip in part because that was only two days ago, and I am still not sitting easily." 

 

"Well," Legolas says with a rueful sigh, "That will make two of us. Perhaps Gimli will be amenable to occasional pauses, to walk the horses." 

 

"I hope so." I agree, rather mournfully. 

 

Then the door opens, and Aragorn and Gimli join us again. Soon enough I am being practically herded to my bed chamber by my bossy yet loving father.


	4. Chapter 4

Following Morning

I did not expect to sleep at all last night, not with Eowyn already sent away for her safety and our young son's and the troubled thoughts of my own impending banishment. I had meant to spend the time writing down instructions and messages for my staff in Minas Tirith. Yet sleep I did, and deeply. Before I knew it, the time had come for farewells and our departure. 

 

My father embraces me fiercely, as is his wont whenever we must part. I return the affection with equal strength, having learned from last spring when I let my justifiable annoyance with him make me short in parting, and then subsequently nearly died in in a cage in Minas Ithil with Legolas. I love my father, even if he is overbearing, and I mean never again to leave him in doubt of it 'ere I leave on a journey. 

 

I hear Arwen in the background giving Legolas an older-sisterly lecture. Before I can do more than think about going to his aid, Aragorn's hand reaches out to cup the back of my neck. 

 

"Remember," His deep voice rumbles, once he is sure that he has my attention, "What I have told you, about why I am sending you away. I want you safe because I love you. For yourself, and not just for your value to me, which is great, ion-nin, have no doubt." 

 

"I know, sir," I assure him, though in truth I doubt it. If he truly respected me as Steward and officer, then this would be no time to exile me. 

 

Aragorn sighs. His hand moves to pat my cheek.

 

"You don't." He says, exasperated. "But I hope, in time, that you will."

Then he turns his attention to Legolas and Gimli. Legolas, at first seeming grateful for the distraction from Arwen, soon frowns as Aragorn says, "You will take care of Faramir for me, won't you?" 

 

It is my turn to sigh. Legolas, either driven to distraction or bold because he knows he does not have to fear Aragorn's displeasure whilst in Gimli's company, sharply retorts that it is much easier to keep me safe than it ever was my father at my age. I hide a smile as Aragorn blusters. Arwen, ever my advocate save in the immediate wake of my most recent adventure, hides a smile and agrees that I am often more careful than he. 

 

Gimli narrows his dark eyes as my father casts aspersions on myself and Legolas for having been captured in Minas Ithil during our first visit.

 

"Faramir, at least, has the excuse of youth." He points out gruffly, raising an impressively bushy eyebrow, "When you were fighting the corsairs with us at the Paths of the Dead, you took far less care than did our lads that day in Minas Ithil." 

 

I hide a beatific smile. I am sometimes envious of Gimli's defense of Legolas when my father falls into one of his lecturing moods. But I quickly sober, as I have an important goal in mind, one for which I was awaiting such an opportune moment. 

 

"I hate to leave you and Arwen at such a time, Adar," I tell Aragorn quietly, but loudly enough for all to hear, "Not knowing what lengths you might go to, in your own zeal to protect our family. Promise me that you will be careful, and safe."

Promise me, I ask silently as my gray eyes meet his, that there will not be a repeat of the incident with the corsairs. 

 

Aragorn frowns at me, exasperated again but also a little bit amused. And maybe even proud, as my sincerity and the presence of our audience - particularly Arwen - leaves him no choice but to agree.

 

"Aren't you a clever boots, my Faramir." He whispers sotto voce in my ear as we take our leave, silently slipping though the dark tunnels to the other side of the Mount Mindolluin. We take no guide or torch. I grew up playing in these tunnels, and Legolas and Gimli see better in the dark than even my cats. 

 

We emerge from the tunnels into the pale pearlescence of a clear fall sun about to rise. A farmer who is also a retired a soldier has kept our horses for us here, with his mountain goats and mules. My sweet-tempered mare, Blythe, whickers a soft greeting. She appears no more than puzzled to be lodging with such odd pasture-mates. The fine, solid pony I recognize as one which has borne Gimli on several of our past journeys ignores us in favor of finishing his breakfast. Arod sidles up to Legolas from the shadows, as the farmer apologizes for 'losing' him. Arod will happily keep company with Blythe and Gimli's pony, but not, it seems, with mountain goats and donkeys. 

 

Mounted and fresh, we begin to wend our way through the little-known tracks, which traverse these mountains. Had we wings, the shortest route from Minas Tirith to Aglarond would be over the mountains. However, the footing is treacherous and at some points horses are far more hindrance than help. One has to know what one is doing to travel over this mountain range at speed. We do, the three of us. I have done similar before and I suspect that Legolas and Gimli have as well, from the tales I have heard of the Quest. However, there is no need to travel at such speed over the mountains. So far as anyone back in Minas Tirith knows, Legolas, Gimli, and I are all still at the Citadel, where we will bide for a week or however long one of my guardsmen, one of Legolas' guards, and a volunteer dwarf from the delegation at the gate can successfully pretend to be myself, Legolas, and Gimli. 

 

Normally, to make the best time, one would leave from the front gates of Minas Tirith and travel on the Great West Road, thus skirting the mountain and heading straight across Anorien to the Eastfold. We will instead begin our journey on the other side of the mountain range, where the peaks give way to smaller foothills and a fairly rapid pace can be maintained by one familiar with the area. We are traveling as a master dwarven engineer - Gimli, of course - on his way back to Aglarond from having volunteered his time rebuilding the great walls of Minas Tirith. Legolas has, at some effort, been persuaded to braid his hair differently so that his ears are not quite as prominent, such that he can pass for a younger cousin of mine. A dwarf and an elf traveling together would be something too unusual to go unnoted, and it is Gimli's sincere wish - and ours of course as well - that our true identities not be divined by random travelers on the road or by unknown assassins. In a few years, dwarves and elves traveling together may no longer be such a remarkable thing, thanks to the great strides in diplomacy, which my friends' close relationship has fostered. The elves of Imladris and the Greenwood have agreed to work together with the dwarves in re-designing several different aspects of the city's water supply and garden systems. 

 

Still, for the nonce, I play the role of retired soldier and traveling minstrel. Legolas accompanies me as young kinsman and possibly apprentice, although I know not what patience he has for singing and playing. His voice is fine, but I do not know if it is a role he would care to play. It is unlikely that these identities will need to stand up to too much scrutiny, and given Legolas' apparent age it is unlikely that anyone would question his traveling with a slightly older kinsman. Nor is it unusual these days for an individual dwarf to take on humans as traveling companions, as he makes his way back and forth from Aglarond and Minas Tirith. It is more common to see the dwarves travel in groups together, of course, but they have made friends in our city, such that a dwarf traveling with two humans will not seem too out of the ordinary. 

 

We make good time on our way down the first slopes. It is a pleasure to be out in the open air on such a fine morning with good friends, a rare treat, in fact, given our separate busy lives and responsibilities. However, it is a somewhat challenging ride, and in shifting in my saddle to accommodate Blythe's nimble-footed passage through the narrow paths, the reason for our journey is uncomfortably brought back to my mind. Out of the corner of my eye I note Legolas being stoic as well. I pull off the trail for a moment, allowing both he and Gimli to pass me, as I look back over the mountain towards my city. 

 

I do not want to leave. Someone is hunting me, doing their best to end my life and now the life of my friend, in my city, in my land. That is unacceptable, and with every fibre of my being I yearn to return to Minas Tirith, to not rest until I have solved this mystery and set it to rights. It would be very easy to just slip away from my companions and re-enter the city unnoticed. I have friends and contacts there from long years as Denethor's unwanted second son, folk who could hide me without putting themselves too much at risk. 

"Faramir?" Legolas calls back from ahead of me, "Gimli says to walk the horses for a while."

 

Legolas is doing a good job of hiding his relief at that suggestion, but a relief it is to him, and to me and my aching backside as well. And a welcome interruption. I know that I cannot return to Minas Tirith until after my friends are safely at Aglarond. We each rely on one another, traveling thusly just the three of us. I would never leave them unprotected. And I also gave my father and King my word that I would do as he bade and accompany Gimli to Aglarond. After we are "to Aglarond" my father's command would technically be satisfied. That is a matter for another day, however. It may well be that Aragon and our staff and guard can sort out who is trying to kill both Legolas and I without any assistance from me. I do have faith in them to be thorough and clever and dedicated in their investigations. However, I also feel a great deal of guilt that I am not to be involved, but the choice was taken away from me. 

 

My thoughts thus unpleasantly occupied, I am surprised when Blythe, who does not like her rider to be sad, bumps into me, her way of asking what is wrong. 

 

"Nothing is wrong, sweet girl." I assure her. "I am just a little tired, that is all."

Which is true enough. I've been running myself ragged, trying to deal with all of my normal duties, plus arranging extra excursions to play 'assassin bait,' and then most recently trying to leave instructions for everything that must be done while I am effectively in exile. I frown again. 

 

"Time to get moving again, lads, if the two of ye are done communing with those animals of yours." Gimli orders, gruffly but not unkindly. 

 

"You're just jealous that Arod and Blythe like us better than Ruby likes you." Legolas sallies back lightly, lifting himself into his saddle with a poorly-hidden wince. 

 

"Oh, aye, the two of ye have quite a way with the horses, and the ladies." Gimli retorts, his dark eyes twinkling. Legolas, predictably, takes mild offense to that. Their last visit to Minas Tirith, after our victory in Minas Ithil, ended in a series of balls where we had to protect our young friend from the young ladies of Minas Tirith, to whom an elven prince would be quite the catch. The resulting conversation distracts Legolas - and me - from our discomfort until we are well past the Rivers Sirith and Celos and approaching the Gilrain. 

 

Gimli suggests another stop to water the horses and walk them for awhile. Blythe gratefully yet daintily drinks from the river while I stretch, and while a stiff Legolas ends up having to assist Gimli in explaining to Ruby that if he is allowed to drink as much water as he would like to, he will founder and feel most unpleasant. Arod prances a bit, rolling his lips and making a 'whuffing' sound. I think it might be the equivalent of equine laughter. This impression is reinforced by Legolas' hissed comment of , "Arod, you are not helping!" 

 

As it seems we have stopped for a moment, I refill waterskins and then pull out apples and meat pastries from the provisions the cooks packed for us this morning. Gimli, upon seeing this, sighs, but nonetheless accepts his share with polite gratitude. I suspect that he had wanted to eat in the saddle. I do not blame him, and on one level, I, too, think it makes sense to get my fellow target and me out of harm's reach before we can endanger anyone else. However, I have not been paddled quite as thoroughly as Aragorn attended to me for many years, which leaves me in no hurry to get back onto my saddle. Ruby seems to be of a similar opinion, as he has managed to wander off into the underbrush. 

 

"Do not worry, Elvellon, I will fetch him." Legolas offers, with a smile and a slight shake of his head. 

 

Gimli looks ready to accept that help with a grateful wave, then his eyes narrow, probably recalling why we are making this trek at this time.

 

"Nay, laddie," He calls to Legolas, who has already reached the shade at the end of the clearing. Legolas pauses obediently, turning around with a sad, disappointed expression. 

 

"I will go with him," I offer, pulling a small glass bottle out of one of my saddlebags. 

 

"You going along doesn't really solve anything, Faramir. Someone wants to kill the both of ye, if ye recall." Gimli points out, tired as much as disapproving. I feel badly for him - he has to be very nearly as exhausted as Legolas and I, and worried for Legolas besides. Despite all of that, he has been pleasant company, uncomplaining, and even kind enough to invite me to join them at his own beloved home. 

 

"I recall," I say, sympathetic and reassuring, "But I do not think that we are in any danger in this moment. Mountain goats may be gossips, as Radagast the Brown once told me, but I doubt they've had a chance to converse with the men who....have taken exception to Legolas and me." 

 

Gimli considers that, then nods toward the trees. I smile my thanks and begin to walk towards my elven friend. Gimli stops me again just a few paces later. 

 

"Faramir," He says firmly, "What is that?" 

 

Assuming that he refers to the sun gel, I reply, "A Dol Amroth cure for sunburn." 

 

Which it is, with an added topical pain-killer, but I figure that anything which will help Legolas and me to move more quickly today will be fine with Gimli. And if not, for some reason, I would be ready to argue the point. I truly have no idea why - I am very fond of Gimli and respect his greater experience and patience very highly. I can't thank him enough for having offered his home to me, yet I would be ready - and actually happy - to argue with him if he were to dispute that Legolas and I can take advantage of this gel to feel more at ease. It is very strange. 

 

It seems that is not necessary, and that Gimli would prefer that we move faster as well. He waves me on with a muttered, "No more than ten minutes, Faramir."

 

I see that he is getting out his pipe, which is probably a good thing. I've noticed that he tends to be more relaxed after he's had a bit of a smoke. 

 

Legolas looks happy and relieved to be back under the trees. These wooded mountains have felt very happy to me as we pass through them today, very clean, so I assume that these trees must be pleasant ones for him to commune with. I am a little envious - I wish that I could speak to nature the way that he does. I cannot help but smile as I see him, though, so relaxed and at peace does he seem under the shade of the green leaves. 

 

"I see that Ruby did not go far," I observe, hiding another smile as the sturdy pony eats a patch of violets growing in the dappled sunshine beside a fallen tree. 

 

"No, not far. He is actually quite fond of Gimli. I do not think that he would abandon him for all the violets in the world....but this patch was worth a walk-about." Legolas says with a slight smile of his own. Legolas takes another deep breath, as if he is trying to take this moment of tree-like peace with him. 

 

"Are you well, cousin?" I ask, a little concerned. 

With another deep breath and a sad smile, Legolas explains, "I love Aglarond. And you will as well, Faramir. It is beautiful, and to see Gimli there...well, it's as if he is a jewel, and it is his perfect setting. But I...." Here Legolas pauses. I listen patiently. "I am not particularly fond of being in enclosed spaces for long periods of time." Legolas confesses in a rush. 

 

I hide a wince. Poor Legolas. Gimli must know of this. Although, given how good Legolas is at hiding things that are bothering him, perhaps Gimli does not understand the full extent. 

 

"I see, mellon nin," I say sympathetically, reaching out to rest my hand comfortingly on Legolas' nearer arm. "I would think that we might convince Gimli to let us out a bit, at least to see the stars, of an evening. Surely there is more than one exit, and our enemies could not possibly guard them all, even after they figure out that we have gone to the Glittering Caves." 

 

Legolas brightens a little and agrees that must be the case. I will have to remember to ask Gimli to show us all of the exits. I am sure that it will make Legolas feel better to know that he is never too far from open air, and I generally just like to know how to get in and out of any place where I am staying. 

 

"Faramir," Legolas turns toward me with an open, curious gaze, "How did you manage to get your guards to agree to let you go ahead of them to lure out the assassins?" 

 

"If I had to do over again, I would have aborted the whole plan." I tell him, with some self-disgust. "It took us three tries, with sending me on ahead to an relatively unpopulated area and my guard following at a distance, to successfully lure one of the criminals into committing to attack me. By then, we were getting closer to narrowing down who it might have been anyway. Too much risk, just to catch a paid killer." 

 

"I'm sorry for that. But you couldn't have known that he was a hireling if you had not managed to trap him." Legolas points out. 

 

Which is more or less true. I hadn't bothered to point it out to my father at the time. He'd looked ready to kill me, and I don't think that it would have calmed him down.

 

"It seemed...worth the risk, at the time." I answer. 

 

Legolas nods sympathetically, then asks again, "But how did you get your guards to go along with it?" 

 

I chuckle lightly, having an idea now of where my dear young friend's specific interest lies. "It is not the type of thing that will work more than once, Legolas." 

 

He is still curious, as I probably would be were I a teenaged prince who is often accompanied by far more armed, adult elves than are strictly necessary in my opinion. 

 

"Adar let me hire some of my own guards," I explain with a rueful smile, "It is a decision he is reconsidering. It should not be too damaging to their careers - they came from the White Company and I will re-hire them, if need be." 

 

"Oh." Legolas replies, disappointed. I do not think that Aran Thranduil or Gimli will be letting my young cousin hire any of his own guards any time soon. Or on this side of the sea, for that matter. 

 

"Those whom I did not think I could persuade to go along with my plan, I had Eowyn speak with their wives to ensure that they would ask for time off on the days we put our plans in motion." 

 

"Oh." Legolas says again. 

 

"I would not recommend marriage for you, just yet, as a strategy for getting more time away from your guards." I tease him lightly. 

 

He makes a face. 

 

"Give me your arm." I ask while he is distracted. 

 

Still preoccupied by the dire idea of females and marriage, Legolas obeys. I pull up his sleeve, take his hand in mine and turn his arm over, and then pinch the tender skin on the under side of his forearm. 

 

"Belain, Faramir! Ow! What are you thinking?" Legolas yelps, beginning to pull his arm away. 

 

"Trust me." 

 

Legolas does so, but warily, letting me keep his arm and pull out the bottle of sun gel to put on the reddened spot. 

 

"Ha!" Legolas remarks after a moment with a surprised smile, "It doesn't hurt at all anymore - in fact I can barely feel it!" 

 

"A suspension of aloe-vera with a pain reducing chemical and a numbing agent," I explain, "Some of my distant Dol Amroth cousins run a very famous apothecary." I gesture towards the fallen tree, "Disrobe, I'll put some on for you. It will make it easier to ride this afternoon, so that we can make good time between here and the West Fold and Lebennin." 

 

Legolas hesitates, not unexpectedly. This moment bring to mind bittersweet memories of arguments I had with my older brother, several of which occurred after which he had spanked me himself. 

 

"Why did you even bother?" I would ask him, still smarting and sometimes offended as well. 

 

"Because you earned it." Boromir would often reply, that or something similar. But if we had to ride or sit through a formal event, he did not want me to suffer. Of course, if I demurred and Boromir felt strongly about the matter, he would always get his way. He was stronger than I and a better wrestler, not to mention a bit of a bully, although generally a benevolent one. I would never take the same tact with Legolas, or anyone else. Not about something this intimate. Besides, were I to try to wrestle Legolas, I would most likely lose. I have, however, spent most of my life learning how to convince those of greater power, authority, or strength to do what I think is best. 

 

"Come, brother," I tease Legolas gently, "It is not as if I haven't seen you bare before. And you have seen me bare, and blushing as well, for you were at the hot springs at Emyn Arnen when I was, after Aragorn deemed me well enough to chastise for having gone into battle at Minas Ithil while still subject to the influence of blood-thinners." 

 

"You deserved that." Legolas mutters, as I sigh and give him a patient look. Apparently deciding that he might as well, Legolas sighs and begins to loosen his leggings, before pausing again. "Faramir, I do not wish to go against Gimli's will. I do not know if he would approve..." 

 

"He knows that I was taking the gel with me, I told him what it was when he asked. He would have objected if he wanted to." I point out reasonably.

 

"Well, it is for the best then. Thank you," Legolas says, as he turns to lie over the thick trunk of the fallen tree. 

 

I lift his tunic carefully out of the way and wince at the bright color still staining his slender buttocks. Echoing Legolas' earlier sentiments, I think to myself that he did thoroughly deserve this, but still I feel sorry for him. As gently as I can whilst still being brisk about it, I apply the cool sea-green lotion. Legolas shivers slightly, then gratefully trades places with me when I finish. 

 

I shiver as well, for the air is chill enough even without being half-naked. 

 

"You know," Legolas tells me as he hesitantly rubs in the cool aloe mixture, "I'm rather surprised that Estel used THAT paddle on you. He absolutely loathed it when we - he - was younger, and very strongly stated his intentions never to use it on anyone, on more than one occasion." 

 

"Yes, well." I say with a sigh as he finishes and I re-dress, "He told me that I'd driven him to it. And Arwen was even angrier. I'd never before seen her lose her temper at all." 

 

"Lucky you." Legolas says, shaking his head with a rueful chuckle. I don't share this with Legolas, but Arwen actually threatened to take her hairbrush to my backside herself, if I ever risked my life thusly again. I hope that she would not really do such a thing, but I find that I don't really want to know the answer to that question. 

 

I stretch as Legolas recollects Ruby, breathing a sigh of relief at how much less sore I feel. 

 

"Thank you," I tell Legolas sincerely. I could have managed the gel myself, of course, but it was easier this way, and I think Legolas looks more comfortable as well. 

 

Legolas manages a small smile. "Of course. What are gwedyr for?" He asks. I see shadows of my father as a young man in his fathomless blue eyes. I do not know what to say to comfort him, and he merely shakes his head as I give him a worried look and search for words. 

 

"It is not your fault, Faramir." He says, seeking to comfort me when it is he who sorrows. My poor, kind friend, I think to myself, as Legolas explains that he has come to expect that times move on and that his mortal friends will grow up. I sense, though, that my father was the first of those mortal friends, and that it must be hard to have him a grown man and a father, while Legolas remains an adolescent. Difficult to have so little in common in terms of their day to day lives, while sharing so many memories and experiences. 

 

"Ready, lads?" Gimli asks as we rejoin him. I silently bless him for managing not to sound too impatient.


	5. Chapter 5

[Legolas POV] 

 

It has been a long day; in fact it has been a long few days ever since Gimli descended upon me in Ithilien-en-Edhil in what can only be described as a fury. Of course I understand his anger and I know that it was fear that drove that anger, fear for me.  
In some ways it was almost a relief to have the whole truth come out, to have the burden lifted from my shoulders and to be able to hand over the problem to first Gimli and then to Estel, but while I appreciate their support in finding those who seem to have decided that the elves should never have come to Ithilien it also leaves me wondering if, since I am incapable of making sensible, safe choices for myself whether I am unfit to rule even my small enclave?

I suspect that Gimli believes that to be the case. His words to me yesterday as well as his actions leave me in little doubt of that. That I was deserving of his wrath I do not doubt, nor that he was determined that the lesson he was attempting to impart would be a memorable one which it certainly was. I am still feeling its effects this morning but it is his threat to return me to my Ada if I ever make such a poor choice again that so terrifies me. Why, because I know Gimli does everything with my best interests in mind and if he fears I may repeat this behavior and he is my staunchest supporter how will others react if they come to hear of it?

Captain Galathil may even have already written to my father. I know he sends monthly reports of our doings in Ithilien, and I have scarcely endeared myself to him by keeping him out of my confidence, why would he not tell Ada  
.  
Then there is Estel and Arwen to consider my silence may well have contributed to the danger Faramir and his family found themselves in and of course I know like Gimli they have my best interests at heart and would do what they felt was for the best even if it hurt my pride in the process, and why should they not hurt my pride? Have I not deserved it?

I let Gimli and Faramir take the path ahead of me, holding Arod back so that I can guide him and the packhorse down the scree slope we are facing. I do this for two reasons: one is the obvious sensible one that a heavily laden pack horse will have more difficulty in navigating the slope and it will be better to go down last in case he sets off a landslip but the second is more selfish. It will allow me to ease myself out of the saddle while the others are ahead of me and cannot see me taking some relief from the pain in my very blistered rump. It is foolish I know but I do not wish to appear even weaker than I already do in the eyes of my travelling companions but the pain is quite exquisite and while I may be deserving of it, I am finding it very difficult to endure it stoically as I should.

We ride on until we are well past the Rivers Sirith and Celos and are approaching the Gilrain. My backside feels as if it is on fire so sore is it so I am relieved when Gimli suggests we stop for water and that we will walk the horses for a while. Faramir must be struggling as much as I am for he hurries to take out food and while Gimli would no doubt prefer to eat while we are on the move he takes the pastry held out to him and seems resigned to a short break. I am too grateful for the respite to even pretend that I am not relieved to be off Arod’s back and to ignore the grin as Gimli wonders why I do not sit down to eat.

All too soon Gimli is pushing for us to mount up again but to his chagrin he finds that his pony Ruby has wandered off. I offer to fetch him and am about to go off into the trees when Gimli calls for me to stop. It is plain to see that he has not yet forgiven me for my conduct and no longer trusts me to go beyond his sight, even when Faramir says he will come with me Gimli hesitates making his excuse that since we are both being hunted it is not a good idea 

Eventually however he gives us permission to go together and I slip into the trees before my dwarf can change his mind I can hear Gimli and Faramir talking and I smell the very distinctive aroma of pipe weed. I am glad that Gimli has taken the time to smoke his pipe for it always seems to offer him comfort and to calm his nerves and help him relax which he surely needs after the last few frantic days the blame of which can be laid at my door much to my shame.

I see Ruby has not gone far after all and as I pat his neck and whisper to him not to gorge himself too much Faramir joins me.

We talk idly for a moment or two about what we will find when we reach Aglarond and I share some of my knowledge of the caves. Faramir seems particularly interested in how many entrances and exits there are but perhaps it is only because I let slip that I do not enjoy being trapped below the earth and he is offering me some solace with the thought of us being able to go up to watch the stars.

From then we talk more generally about what has happened to us both and how we both reacted I am envious of his ability to choose his own guard but not sufficiently as to wish to marry to ensure it while I am still considering this Faramir takes my arm and then pinches my skin making me yelp.

"Belain, Faramir! Ow! What are you thinking?" 

"Trust me." 

I do and he rubs a small amount of gel on the spot and miraculously the pain subsides immediately.

Faramir grins at me and then gestures at a fallen tree and tells me to disrobe so he can apply it to me abraded rump. He tells me it will help to make the afternoon ride much easier and I believe him but …

I cannot do it. I know it is foolish to refuse such relief but it is too mortifying to consider it. I do not find it easy to expose myself so fully even with the healers or with Gimli which is ridiculous to admit when I consider the many times I have been bare bottomed over his knees but when you are being justly chastised you are not thinking of embarrassment or at least not for long. There are other more immediate demands on your attention, but here with Faramir …

"Come, brother, it is not as if I haven't seen you bare before. And you have seen me bare, and blushing as well, for you were at the hot springs at Emyn Arnen when I was, after Aragorn deemed me well enough to chastise for having gone into battle at Minas Ithil while still subject to the influence of blood-thinners." 

"You deserved that," I mutter, and he gives me one of those looks, I recognize so well but I also see his own embarrassment and the pain he is suffering and it occurs to me that Faramir is hoping that I will perform the same office for him once he has done what is needful. Very likely if I refuse he will not make that request and he will be condemned to another long painful afternoon. Can I do that too him? I sigh, no I cannot and I will not. I have caused Faramir enough trouble already. I begin to lose the ties of my leggings then hesitate again this time because of Gimli.

“Faramir, I do not wish to go against Gimli's will, I do not know if he would approve..." I let my voice trail off but Faramir hurries to reassure me on that head at least.

"He knows that I was taking the gel with me, I told him what it was when he asked. He would have objected then had he wanted to." He replies and that is enough for me so I lower myself over the log close my eyes and think of the beech trees at home. 

I decide as the pain begins to dissipate that it is well worth the embarrassment and I hurry to return the favor then together we collect Ruby and return to Gimli who merely raises a bushy eyebrow and asks if we are ready but I see him grinning as I sigh with relief as my rump hits the saddle. I smile in return but when he then looks away again my spirits fall and I fear I am still in disgrace.

 

[Faramir POV] 

 

We make very good time after that, reaching a track that leads down to the Great West Road in the East Fold just as the sun begins to set. After a brief discussion, we decide to risk the greater exposure in exchange for how much more quickly we will be able to reach Aglarond at the Hornburg. Yet as we are about to leave the foothills, I find myself pausing, an unaccountable frisson of wariness coming over me. 

Blythe pauses, snorting her surprise in a lady-like manner at the sudden change in my posture. 

"Faramir?" Legolas inquires, turning the dancing Arod back to face me. 

I take a deep breath, always hating to explain these things. My lord father - the late Steward Denethor, that is - always mocked my 'little feelings,' and my brother had trouble taking them seriously, particularly as they do not always come true. Perhaps a little over half the time, no more. As Lady Galadriel told me, the future is not fixed. But she also abjured me, before she sailed, not to ignore my little premonitions. So I summon my courage. 

"I...have a bad feeling, about going down this path." Irritated with myself and the vagueness of what I am sensing, I add, "Though I have no idea why." 

Legolas pats Arod's neck and turns his attention to Gimli. I do as well, for the decision whether to continue or backtrack and forge on through the hills is Gimli's. It is somewhat odd for me, to be in a party and not be the one in charge. Amongst Men, only my father can truly overrule me, although I would always carefully weigh any counsel given to me, particularly that of Eomer-King in Rohan or my uncle in Dol Amroth. 

Gimli purses his lips in thought, staring down the hill to the Great West Road. At last he sighs. "We turn back." He concludes, clearly unhappy. 

I start to apologize, only to have Gimli wave it off. "No need, Faramir. If any of us have a bad feeling about any part of this trip, I'd rather go 'round if we can." 

"Even me?" Legolas murmurs softly, rather to my surprise. Still, he has seemed off and uncertain today, more unsure of himself, particularly around Gimli. I look at him in concern. 

Gimli snorts, "Especially you, elf." He lectures, as Ruby trots past the indignant Arod. "For aren't you the one who can see crows stirring from a mile away? I trust your sense of when trouble is coming, just not whether you have the common sense to avoid it." 

Before an argument can finish brewing, I ask whether it might be wise to stop at the first clearing we come to in the mountains. 

Neither Gimli nor Legolas like that idea. 

"We can get at least a little further." Legolas points out. 

"Aye, and I'd rather be well away from whatever was causing you concern, Faramir." Gimli agrees. We forge on, the setting sun casting odd shadows amongst the hills and rocks. I cannot help but search the gloom for men with knives and an unexplainable hate for me in their hearts, and I suspect that Legolas is doing the same. We are all ill-at-ease, although the feeling eases once we are past a spring and a rivulet whose sister on the other side of the mountain turns into the River Ciril. 

"I am not certain, for I have not traveled this route in some time, but I think this is the last water source we will pass before it will get too dark to continue on." 

This is clearly not welcome news to Gimli. I do not blame him - I do not like how indefensible this place is, either. It is not ideal for a camp site. 

"I could scout ahead." Legolas offers, seeming eager not just for the chance to be more in the wild but also for the opportunity to be of use to us, especially to Gimli. 

"No." Gimli immediately turns the offer down. 

I frown at him. "I think that there is a cave, a little further up. One of the fall-back camps for the Beacon-Wardens, should an army come through the Folds." 

We press onto the cave, at which point Legolas offers to go back to the spring for water, and do some hunting. Gimli refuses him again, stating with some evident irritation that he will go to get water, and we will stay here, set up camp, and stay out of trouble. 

I can understand why Gimli is frustrated, but his taking out that frustration on Legolas, who was just trying to help, sets my teeth on edge. 

Setting up camp is not an onerous duty. We have traveled together often enough that it is almost automatic. After we've done all that can be done and set out the rations we brought with us from Minas Tirith, I turn my attention again to Legolas. 

"Gimli is just irritated at the delays, gwador-nin. He is not upset with you." 

Legolas pales a little, and looks down to his feet. "You do not understand, Faramir." He tells me softly. 

I think that I understand very well. Keeping the secret of the threatening letters, particularly given the assassination attempts, was both foolish and dangerous, but if I can tell that Legolas understands that now and sincerely regrets it, then I am sure that Gimli has discerned that as well. 

"I may not understand, dear brother, but I am sure that you may be at your ease with Gimli. He would want that, even if he is irritated with the delays just now." And the situation as a whole. 

Legolas sighs brokenly. Pushing a braid behind his ear and looking the very picture of misery, he explains, "Gimli is thinking of telling my father that I am not fit to lead the settlement at Ithilien." 

My eyes widen in surprise. "Did he actually say that?" I ask, remembering that sometimes Legolas interprets what he has been told on an emotional rather than rational level. 

"He said that he would, that he would take me to Ada in Eryn Lasgalen himself, if I ever did anything like...like this, again." Legolas confesses miserably, picking at the strings on his bracers. 

I nod, both in sympathy and understanding. Practically, I ask him, "Well, are you? Planning to do something like that again? If you get another letter of that sort and a half-dozen tree branches almost fall on you, would you keep that to yourself again?" 

"No!" Legolas exclaims definitively, looking at me as if I am an idiot for even asking the question. 

I nod, hiding a slight smile. "Then why are you worried about it?" I ask matter-of-factly. "Even if you were reckless enough with your own skin to play those odds again, now that you have realized that holding back implicates the safety of others, I could not seeing you acting thusly again. I think Gimli understands that you have learned a lesson from this, as well. I doubt a trip to Greenwood to complain to your father of your unreadiness is foremost on his mind." 

"Have you not seen how he has treated me today?" Legolas retorts, letting go of his bracer and turning to pace. "He did not let me hunt, or scout ahead, or even go by myself just a hundred yards into the wood to retrieve his intractable pony! It is as if all the dangers we have come through together suddenly mean nothing, for Gimli does not trust me at all!"

Feeling an incipient headache beginning to lurk behind my left eye, I remind myself firmly that my cousin Amrothos was just as incensed at being temporarily relieved of command after losing a ship to pirates when he was about Legolas' age, even though saving his crew and scuttling the ship had been the best that most anyone could have done under the circumstances. I remind myself as well that I had been nearly as devastated myself after making several of my own first big mistakes as a young Lieutenant in the rangers. With that in mind, I gently point out, "Legolas, I think that you are reading too much into your guardian's caution. It is not your skills he distrusts, however much it might seem so to you. He does not want you - or I- out and about alone, because we are both targets at the moment, through no commensurate fault of our own." 

Legolas' eyes brighten with relief before doubt and sorrow overcome him again. "How can you be so sure?" He asks in a small voice. 

"I once threatened to remove one of my lieutenants from his position, for similar reasons." I relate quietly, as the time for Gimli to return from his self-assigned errand is likely approaching. "A good friend of mine, actually, who was the head of our spy network in Harad. I know that despite my fears for him, I had no intention of following through on that threat until and unless he did repeat the same mistakes again. So, please believe me when I tell you I think that to be the case with Gimli's words to you. A warning that he means truly, but not more than that. And by no means an indictment of you." 

From the expression on my friend's fair face, he doubts whether I know Gimli's mind so well as I claim. But he does seem a bit reassured. "And your lieutenant? He was more careful?" Legolas asks. 

"He was." I answer quietly, thinking of Dervorin's laughing eyes and crooked smile. He died at the Battle of the Morannon, while I stayed in Minas Tirith, recovering from injuries at my future King's command. If Dev had lived, I would not feel the need to travel Southward anywhere near so often. He was far, far better at playing the spy than I. "But it did take that promise of mine, to make him have a care for his own neck." I add. 

"Threat, not promise." Legolas corrects with an unhappy air, returning to his pacing. Feeling that there is little else I can do for him, I retrieve quill and parchment from my bag and begin writing a note to leave in the cave for the next Beacon Warden or regular army officer to come here. When we reach Aglarond, I shall write to Aragorn and the commander of the nearest garrison myself, recommending that a patrol go through the path that gave me such a dire feeling this afternoon, but in case someone comes to check the provisions in this cave sooner, it is worth leaving word that they do so. 

It is into this glum quiet that Gimli returns. Legolas immediately goes to take the water from him, dispensing it to the horses and leaving some for me to boil for tea. 

Gimli looks from his elf's face to mine, and shakes his head. Apparently in better spirits himself after his walk, he exclaims, "I've never seen a pair of glummer faces on two beings who are lucky enough to be traveling to Aglarond, to look in wonder upon the Glimmering Caves!" 

I flush for my rudeness, giving into gloom when Gimli has been so kind as to invite me to the home he dearly loves. Legolas hides a smile, and begins to describe to me the beauties of Aglarond in poetic and stirring words that I think might have originally been Gimli's, as the dwarf gives him a fond, amused look. 

"And I am sure that since last I visited the glories of more shining chambers have been revealed, for the dwarves have been hard at work." Legolas finishes as I add leaves to the tea. 

"Aye, well, at least one chamber." Gimli says modestly. 

"And all of what has been done is merely to enhance the natural magnificence of the caverns." Legolas adds, "For Gimli has handpicked all of the dwarves who dwell at Aglarond, and all are in agreement with his mission." 

As unhappy as I am to have been sent from Minas Tirith against my will, I cannot help but be eager to see the marvels of the Glimmering Caves for myself, and I say so. Gimli's enthusiasm for his new home and mission are such that he is happy to answer any questions I have. Our discussion ranges into matters of the economy of the caves and the occupations of those who dwell within as our camp fire dims. Legolas surprises me by keeping up, even though I have known such administrative issues to bore him in the past. It is clear to me that he has learned so much about the caves and their people in part out of his love for Gimli, and I hope that Gimli appreciates the dedication and the effort in an area which is not one, I think, at which Legolas naturally excels. 

The night grows later. A timberwolf howls in the distance. We three have little to fear from mere wolves, but given my disquiet of earlier today and the events of the past few weeks, I suggest that we should set a watch. My friends both agree. Gimli looks ready to suggest that he should stand the watch by himself. I decide to preempt that. 

"I think that we're all tired from the past few days. I know that I am." I state quietly, "So I think it best that we evenly divide the watch, so that no one is too tired on the morrow." 

Gimli gives me a narrow look. 

"You could take the middle watch, Gimli." I offer blandly, as that is my least favorite. With first or last, at least one gets mostly uninterrupted sleep. 

"I don't mind taking mid-watch, Elvellon." Legolas volunteers immediately, "It only makes sense, since I need less sleep than you or Faramir." 

"Mahal spare me from elven pride." Gimli growls under his breath. Legolas deflates a little as I sigh internally. After looking us both over dubiously, Gimli says that he will take the middle watch. I ask Legolas if I can have first, since I do not like to get up early in the morning. Which is true, and also gives the two of them a chance to talk while I walk to front of the cave. The tunnel is long but nearly straight, such that I will be just out of easy hearing distance, but still within sight. 

The night begins cold but clear. It is moon-dark, but the stars shine down brightly. I seem alone on my watch save for nocturnal creatures who mean me no harm and pay me little mind. A fox flits by in the trees beneath the cave, accompanied by mostly grown kits. An owl swoops down on a small scurrying rodent. The wolves sing again several times, each time a bit further off. 

 

[Legolas POV] 

We ride through the afternoon mainly in silence we are heading towards the track that will take us down the Great West Road when Faramir suddenly pulls up Blythe. Gimli looks back at him and asks if anything is amiss.

When Faramir does not respond I ask rather more loudly, “Faramir”

"I...have a bad feeling, about going down this path, though I have no idea why." My friend sounds irritated which makes me glance across at Gimli in concern. I know Faramir has these prescient feelings sometimes, as do many elves and it will not do to ignore them.

Gimli recognizes this as well for although I believe he wishes we were further on than we are he does not argue but rather says “Then we turn back. If any of us have a bad feeling about any part of this trip, I'd rather go 'round if we can." Then he smiles at Faramir as he turns his pony and begins to take the other path.

I surprise myself by feeling slightly unsettled by this straightforward appearance of acceptance of Faramir’s words and cannot help but mutter softly, "Even me?" 

Gimli gives me one of his looks, and snorts, "Especially you, elf. For aren't you the one who can see crows stirring from a mile away? I trust your sense of when trouble is coming, just not whether you have the common sense to avoid it." 

I suppose I should be grateful for the compliment even if there is a sting in the words at the end.

However I bite my lip and say nothing further, save to object to Faramir’s suggestion that we stop sooner rather than later of course my objections will count for little in the current climate but Gimli also seems to wish to push on further in the end we do so riding on past a stream which Faramir says he believes is the last source of clean water 

This is clearly not welcome news to Gimli. I do not blame him - I do not like how indefensible this place is, either. It is not ideal for a camp site. 

"I could scout ahead." 

I may as well have saved my breath for Gimli almost snaps my head off with his sharp “No” Despite his words to me yesterday it appears I am not forgiven or perhaps more likely I have fallen so far in his estimation that he cannot or will not trust me beyond his sight in case I do something foolish or dangerous.

"I think that there is a cave, a little further up. One of the fall-back camps for the Beacon-Wardens, should an army come through the Folds." Faramir speaks up in the awkward silence that follows Gimli’s veto of my offer and so we press on.

I attempt one more time to proffer my services to collect water and scare up some game for supper once the cave is reached for without seeming to be boastful I am the best hunter in the group but once again my suggestion is spurned and I am left behind in the cave with Faramir while Gimli stomps off into the gloom.

I watch him go beyond even my sight and then turn back to see Faramir observing me closely, he attempts to assure me that Gimli is only irritated by the delays to our journey but I know better and so I tell him.

I push one of these annoying braids that are meant to hide my ears from off my face, unable to prevent the sigh that precedes my whispered words to him that Gimli’s anger goes deeper than that, I have forfeited his good opinion and done what may well be lasting harm to our relationship, so much so that my guardian is thinking of telling Ada that he believes I am not fit to lead my folk in Ithilien.

I can see I have shocked Faramir with my words and he demands to know exactly what it was that Gimli said to me to make me believe he would do such a thing.

"He said that he would, that he would take me to Ada in Eryn Lasgalen himself, if I ever do anything like...like this, again."

I am surprised when Faramir rather than commiserating asks, “Well, are you?" 

Well of course I am not, and I would dearly love to accept my friends explanation as to what my dwarf really meant when he gave me that ultimatum but given the way Gimli has treated me since he found out about the letters and his refusal to let me go anywhere alone, even to collect his wandering pony it seems highly unlikely to me that his interpretation is correct. “Gimli does not trust me at all!" I end my embittered response and turn away lest Faramir sees the tears that have started in my eyes.

A comforting hand on my shoulder and a soft, "Legolas, I think that you are reading too much into your guardian's caution. It is not your skills he distrusts, however much it might seem so to you. He does not want you - or I- out and about alone, because we are both targets at the moment, through no commensurate fault of our own." 

I want to believe him and for just a moment my spirits rise then I recall Gimli’s face earlier today and doubts assail me once more

Faramir seeks to reassure me by speaking of a friend in similar circumstances and how he dealt with things then

"And was your friend more careful afterwards ?"I ask at the end of the story

"He was." Faramir answers quietly "But it did take that promise of mine, to make him have a care for his own neck." 

"Gimli threatened he did not promise." I correct and go back to staring out of the cave entrance my thoughts and feelings decidedly mixed over this journey and the reasons for it and I admit somewhat annoyed at Faramir’s tale which puts him in a good light as being a sensible rational being unlike me, I want to snap at him that at least I was not foolish enough to act as bait but bite my tongue instead it will not do to fall out with the one person who is still prepared to be a friend to me. Still the silence grows between us and becomes uncomfortable long before Gimli returns.

Gimli seems to sense the atmosphere and attempts to dispel the gloom by talking of Aglarond and I add my mite to the conversation as I can trying to show my guardian that I at least have a real regard for him and his family and for all the work that is being done at Aglarond

As night falls fully we hear the sound of wolves in the distance they are no real threat to us far less so than those who hunt Faramir and myself but it is sufficient for it to bring up the order of the watch during the night. I suggest I take the middle watch but this like much else I have attempted to do today is rejected and I am sent off to my bed roll like a disgraced elfling. 

I am not looking forward to the next few weeks in Aglarond at all even though my present discomfort and misery are all my own fault.

Faramir POV

 

I am spared the walk back to the fire to wake Gimli. Perhaps a half hour before the prearranged time, he comes out to relieve me. Suspecting that Legolas has not yet spoken his troubled mind to his guardian, and thinking that just a few words from Gimli could ease my young friend's mind if Gimli but knew they were needed, I decide to mention the matter. I am a bit hesitant to do so, for several reasons. One of which being that the last time I interfered in matters between elf and dwarf, I was entirely in the wrong. Granted, I just did not understand that Gimli would never harm Legolas in disciplining him, both for the deep bonds of affection between them and because Gimli is too honorable and kind to do so. But still, my previous attempt to help was resented by both of my friends, and I am somewhat concerned that I may somehow have misread matters and might be about to misstep again. 

Also, I don't think that I am the person that Gimli is most likely to listen to, particularly in his current state of concern and haste. I know that Gimli is fond of me, he has professed such on several occasions, even saying that he views my father as a brother and me as a nephew of sorts. I know that he loves Legolas dearly and would do anything for him. But I still find it hard to read Gimli at times. Especially since he lost his temper with me so completely after our victory at Minas Morgul, I am not really sure how wise Lord Gimli thinks me, or what if any weight he would give my concerns over Legolas' troubled mind. 

When Aragorn is irritated with me, or unlikely to listen to me, I generally find someone else to whom I think he will listen better and put the matter to them. If Lady Vonild were here, she would do well. Even Aragorn himself might work, in this instance. But since I am here and they are not, it falls to me. 

"Gimli, there is something which I would like to speak to you about..." I begin. 

At the same time, Gimli says, "Eh, Faramir, lad, I'd like to have a word..." 

We both stop short, a bit amused at the situation. I offer to let Gimli start, but he says that I should speak first. 

"It's about Legolas." I begin again. 

He frowns at me. "Faramir, if you're about to tell me that I was too hard on the lad, then ye should hold your tongue." There is an unspoken 'and you have no room to speak, in any case.' 

That is far from the coldest reception I've ever gotten upon offering my opinion. I persist. "Not that you were too hard on him, no. But I think he misinterpreted some of what you told him, and it's bothering him greatly." 

Gimli frowns again, but this time more in confusion. I take it as an invitation to continue. 

"He feels as if you have already judged him incapable of leading his people in Ithilien-en-Edhil." I explain quietly, "And plan to inform King Thranduil of such decision at your earliest convenience." 

Gimli lifts a hand up to rub over his forehead and his eyes. Since that was approximately my reaction as well, I am sympathetic. After a moment, he looks at me weighingly. "Did he actually say that in so many words, or are ye inferring it from something?" 

"He told me that he is uneasy with you because he feels that he has lost your respect and trust, to the extent that he believes you mean to go through with your promise to inform his father of what has occurred and your opinion that he is unfit. He views as evidence of this that that you will not let him go off on his own to hunt or scout." I relate, feeling a bit guilty to be betraying Legolas' confidences, but feeling it important that this issue get resolved. 

Lifting his hand to rub his head again, Gimli exclaims, "That is not what I said! Nor is it my intention. I canna see him doing something like this again. Although if he does..." Gimli eyes me narrowly, "Then I would most certainly keep that promise. I will not lose him to adolescent pride and reckless heedlessness!" 

"He was appalled at the very thought that he would not take a threat of this nature seriously again, Lord Gimli." 

"Good." 

"Although since you have asked..." I begin again, thinking that I might as well press on. 

"I didn't." Gimli clarifies. 

Again, not the worst reception I've ever gotten. "I don't think that sending Legolas home would be quite the best reaction, should he in the future do...not this, but something comparable." 

"Faramir..." Gimli replies threateningly. 

"I just don't think you've really thought it through all the way." I quickly continue. 

"What is there to think through?" Gimli retorts, plainly out of temper, "If my lad is not able to realize when he must ask for help, then the only thing to do is relieve him from the responsibility until he is ready." 

"Ah." I say, holding up a hand in mute appeal to finish my thought. "But you haven't considered how that will be seen." 

"I don't care." 

"There are other ways of accomplishing the same thing which would not be viewed as poorly by his own people. I think that you do care about that." 

He glares at me again, but tells me to explain. 

"Legolas being sent back to Greenwood by you would be considered a failure on his part. Having you instead journey with him to Greenwood for a visit, and then present Thranduil with a request that Legolas be permanently appointed as an emissary of his people to Aglarond or Minas Tirith, with the stated reason being that he is needed more there than in Ithilien-en-Edhil now that the settlement has begun to get on his feet, something like that would not be counted against him save by those who suspect the truth." I don't mention Captain Galathil by name, but I am thinking of him. Him, and several of Thranduil's lords whose letters to and about Ithilien-en-Edhil have been less than helpful, from what I have seen of Legolas' correspondence when he has been at sea about some small issue or another and Aragorn directed him to me for assistance. 

"I said," Gimli growls back at me, "That if he withheld critical information from me, again, that I would escort him back to his father and register my opinion that he is not ready to be left to his own devices in Ithilien. I said nothing further, and that you think I would bungle the matter so badly is no small amount offensive, son of Aragorn! Do ye think I care nothing for my lad's dignity? Of course I would handle the matter with all delicacy, not just for my love of him, but because he's earned it over and over!" 

"Good." I reply bluntly, though I am a little taken aback by his vehemence. "Then maybe you should say so, to him." 

Gimli throws his hands up in frustration. "I was in the middle of convincing him of the folly of keeping to himself that someone was trying to kill him, Faramir! I'm not planning to send him home, so I hadn't thought through all of the details of how best to do so!" 

"When you promise to do something, you should think about how you would do it. Because you're fooling yourself if you think he's not worrying about it. Whether he'll admit it to himself or not." 

Gimli takes a very deep breath, and then another. He looks up at the stars for a moment, and then back into the cave, towards where Legolas sleeps. His expression softens slightly. "I thank ye for speaking for the lad. I know ye care for him like he's your own kin. If it comes to that, and I hope it doesn't, then I will ask for your help, and Aragorn's, should I need it." 

Knowing that, and feeling a little bit guilty that I accused Gimli of not caring about anything beyond Legolas' physical safety, I humbly offer, "I am sorry, I think that I overstepped my bounds, but..." 

Waving off my apology, Gimli says, "Never mind that. There is something that I wanted to say to you."

Despite being cautious now of what that might be, I say, "Of course." 

Gimli considers me gravely, as if considering what to say. Then a bit of a spark comes into his eyes, "I am glad that ye feel comfortable enough with me, laddie, to so bluntly state your concerns." 

"Well," I start, not sure where this is going. 

"So I'll be plain with ye as well. It’s clear to me that you are unhappy, leaving things as they are in Minas Tirith." 

"Leaving my city and Kingdom I am Steward of in the midst of such a crisis?" I reply, gazing off into the distance, "Yes, I am...unhappy about it." 

"I understand, lad, but ye have your orders. A trip to my home is hardly a harsh sentence. I would recommend that ye just make the best of it." 

I clench a fist, struggling to keep my composure. "I may miss my son's first steps, because being in my company might put Eowyn and Elboron in danger." I tell Gimli, "I might have missed them anyway, being abroad on one errand or another for my King, or serving as Steward. But this...this I had not planned on, and if I am not in Minas Tirith, I cannot help to fix it, so that we can all be together again." Not to mention what it says of Aragorn's respect of, and faith, in me. Not even Lord Denethor ever sent me away thusly. He at the least trusted me to fulfill the tasks I had been charged and entrusted with. 

"I'm sorry, Faramir lad." Gimli tells me, reaching out with one broad hand to squeeze my shoulder. "But it is for the best, for now. I'm sure that your father would not want ye to be miserable, nor Eowyn either. Aragorn and yer people will learn who is threatening you and Legolas, and deal with that. Ye and Legolas will bide with me in the meantime. There's no changing that, so ye might as well accept it with good cheer, and try to enjoy this trip and your stay in Aglarond." 

I sigh sadly, still gazing out into the mountainous forest obscured by dark night, even as I feel the support of Gimli's warm hand. "It is very kind of you to have offered your home to me, and I do not mean to be unappreciative. I am in fact, very grateful for your invitation." I turn to Gimli, meeting his eyes as I assure him, "I enjoy your company, and that of Legolas, while I hardly know Arwen's brothers." 

"We are glad to have you journey with us, as well. I know that my sister, Dorbryn, will be glad to meet ye, as ye made quite an impression on our Mam." 

I smile a bit at the thought of Lady Vonild. "Your mother is quite a dwarf." I tell Gimli. 

"Aye, she is." Gimli agrees, before shooing me off into the cave, in the direction of my bedroll and blanket. 

I lie down, but have trouble falling asleep. I try to relax, but all I can think of is what might be happening in Minas Tirith without me. Then I realize that I am feeling quite cold, and cannot seem to get warm. I think of rekindling our small fire, but do not wish to wake Legolas. I am just debating getting up and walking around a bit in an attempt to get warm, when Legolas commands sleepily, "Faramir. Come here." 

"I am sorry, I did not mean to wake you." 

Tired blue eyes blink at me wearily. "Pick up your blanket and come lie beside me, gwador-nin. Your shivering is keeping me awake." 

I obey, lying down beside Legolas, who pulls his blanket over us, and layers mine on top. I am closest to the lingering warmth of the dim fire, and Legolas curls up against my back. Warm now, I quickly fall asleep, barely aware of Legolas' murmured plea that I 'please, Belain, do not snore.' 

I am barely aware of Legolas getting up several hours later to feed the fire until it is burning cheerily again, and then leaving to take his turn at watch. Hoping that Gimli will take this opportunity to sort out the misunderstanding and reassure Legolas, I open my eyes enough to see the two figures conversing near the opening of the cave. I cannot hear what they are saying, but I can see Gimli stroking Legolas's braids, and tucking one behind his ear. I can see Legolas lay his hand on Gimli's knee, and then Gimli kiss the top of Legolas' head before leaving him to come back towards the fire. I close my eyes then, for their discussion was none of my business. Gimli lays a hand on my head as he lays down beside me. 

"You're a good lad, Faramir. Now get some sleep." 

"M' asleep." I protest faintly, and remember nothing more until morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Legolas POV

I do not expect to sleep for my mind is full of what has happened in the last few days and what I can do to try and put things right; but initially I do doze a little and on the other side of the fire Gimli is soon deeply asleep, his sonorous breathing which I find usually soothing tonight adds only to my feelings of unease. I must eventually fall asleep for I rouse when Gimli wakes and goes off to relieve Faramir of his watch. Usually if he knows I am awake Gimli would take the time to scold me over my restlessness but tonight he lifts his great axe from its place by his side and disappears up the tunnel towards the entrance without a word.

My thoughts turn once more to the mess I now find myself in. How I wish I had spoken to someone earlier or followed Galathil’s advice and sent for Gimli and how desperate have I become to think I should have listened to my guard captain! I shift uneasily at that thought and wrap my blanket more closely about myself. Faramir still hasn’t come into the cave and I wonder if perhaps I should get up and see if something is amiss except I suppose I will only be sent back to bed if I do. I turn on my side and compose myself for sleep and then Faramir comes back but he is as restless as I am and cold since he is apparently shivering. Eventually I tell him to come over to the fire and use my heat to get warm and then we both sleep until it is time for me to stand watch.

I hesitate before going to where Gimli is waiting for me for I am not at all sure of the welcome I will get but he smiles and waves me to his side,

“I trust ye slept well Lamb?”

It is the first time he has called me this since his arrival in Ithilien-en-Edhil and I am pathetically grateful for this small sign that I have not placed myself entirely beyond forgiveness.

I have used the hours of darkness well and now hurry into speech before Gimli can say anything more.

“I am sorry elvellon,” I begin, “truly I am. I realize now that the choices I made were foolish and dangerous and I promise on my oath to you that I will not repeat them.” When there is no immediate response I add desperately “I know you are disgusted by me and that I do not deserve another chance to show you I can learn from my mistakes but please let me at least try. I can do better. I will if only you do not send me away” 

I end on a somewhat choked sob and turn away hastily to wipe away the tears that are stinging my face.

“Send ye away?” Gimli growls, “What nonsense are ye talking now? Aye and when will ye ever learn that while I may disapprove of some of your choices and behaviors that does not mean that I disapprove of you, you young fool!”

“But…”

Gimli looks into my face and sighs at what he sees there, “I suppose ye have been lying there imagining the worst and as ever not listening to what is actually being said.” He shakes his head, “Listen to me and heed me well. I love ye as a son, and would do anything that I needed to keep ye safe even -or perhaps I should say especially- from yourself. But I have never and will never feel disgust for ye nor would I ever wish to send ye away. It would break my heart to do so, but if it was to keep ye safe then broken heart or no it is what I would have to do” He shakes me not hard but sufficiently so that I can feel his concern and deep grief “Do not make me have to do it Lamb.”

“I will not,” I promise, “I swear I will do better Gimli, and I will heed you and listen to the advice of others and ask for help when I need it. I wanted to tell you when the letters kept coming…” I falter, recalling some of the threats those letters contained “at the beginning I thought it likely it would cease on its own. Then as they kept coming and the contents got worse I thought it was too late to tell you and that I would be in trouble for keeping quiet for so long … and my damnable pride would not let me seek the help from those around me in case they considered me too weak to be the leader of their colony. I have made a horrible mess of the whole situation I know it and I am truly sorry for it, but I could not bear it … not bear it at all if I thought I had forfeited your regard …”

This time the shaking I receive is somewhat harder, and I look down into Gimli’s fulminating face.

“There ye go again! Did I not just say that nothing ye did would ever stop me caring for ye? I love ye, ye dense elf and if ye fail to understand that statement and take it to heart this time ye will find yourself over my knee and no amount of Faramir’s magic lotion will take away the sting. Do I make myself quite plain?”

“Yes,” I manage “there is no need for that. I understand and I am grateful.”  
And then I am in his arms and his strength surrounds me and I feel as if a huge burden has been lifted and that finally I may be able to face the morning with some confidence and pleasure.

“Foolish, foolish elfling” Gimli croons, “head filled with nothing but feathers it seems to me. Thank Mahal that Faramir spoke of your concerns to me when he did. He at least shows some little sense aye and alerted me to your foolish misconceptions.”

I stiffen at this not liking the thought that Faramir betrayed my trust by speaking to Gimli of what we had said. I would have preferred to have straightened things out on my own.  
Gimli gives me a squeeze.

“He meant it for the best, and is trying to be a good friend to us both.”

“I suppose so,” I mumble.

“Ye know so,” Gimli tells me, “and while we are talking of him I will tell ye that I am concerned over how he will be when we reach home.”

I am surprised enough by this to look up,

“He is unhappy at being sent away. He is missing his wife and child, and I suspect uncomfortable over meeting with a set of strangers aye and more than that I suspect he resents the fact that he is not the one to be hunting down those dogs that are seeking to harm the pair of ye even more than you. Faramir will bear watching Lamb and I am looking to you to do your best to keep an eye on him while we wait for Aragorn to sort this mess out. You will be more in his company than I and he is more likely to open up to ye. Will ye do your best to be a good friend to him?”

“Of course I will.”

“Good, then we will say no more on any of these matters and start the new day afresh. Good night my lamb. May your watch be peaceful.”

Gimli kisses my brow and strides off into the cave while I turn to look out at the night sky, my heart considerably lighter than it was a few hours ago.

 

[Faramir POV] 

I awaken late in the morning, for the sun has part-way risen and our entire camp site, including Blythe's saddle bags, is entirely packed up. All I have to do is make myself presentable and get myself into the saddle, a task which is far less unpleasant than yesterday. 

"Why did you not wake me earlier?" I lightly chide my companions as we head further along our way. 

Gimli and Legolas share an amused look between them, seeming much more in harmony with one another than they had the day before. I am glad for it, even though I seem to be the target of their renewed amity rather than its beneficent. 

They evidently decide that Legolas will answer my question, for he assumes a neutral, earnest expression which is somewhat alien to his features but oddly familiar to me. "Well, Faramir, you see, when one person is cold and tired and his companions are not much troubled by temperature and do not need as much sleep as he, it only makes sense for that individual to rest and accept an extra blanket so that he can be well-rested and well able to keep up with his companions the next day." 

As Legolas speaks, I realize that his strange expression is actually a decent caricature of my own 'talking someone into something for their own good' face and tone. And at that I have to laugh, albeit a bit self-consciously. Still, it was a fair impression of me and a fair point, and on top of that it is nice to have friends who are not afraid to tease me, and even call me up short when there is cause.

 

We make good time during the day that follows, and are all in bright spirits. For my part, I have resolved to do as Gimli recommended, to forget the reason for this trip as much as I can, and to just enjoy it. Legolas and Gimli cheerfully draw me into their camaraderie. There are between them some inside jokes that I don't quite understand, but the mood is quite pleasant. Legolas particularly is a bit prone to teasing me throughout the morning, which makes me wonder if he knows that I betrayed his confidences to Gimli. I had done so only with the best of intentions and only to ease his state of mind, but I can still understand why he might be upset. Having grown up with Boromir, my skin is thick enough that the teasing doesn't really bother me. As the afternoon turns to evening, he seems to have forgiven me for whatever offense I may have given. 

We camp that night in another cave, this one perhaps halfway though the West Fold. Gimli in particular appears pleased with our progress as he announces that we will arrive at Aglarond perhaps as early as mid-afternoon the following day. Legolas hands him his pipe, inquiring as to how Dorbrynn and Grierr have been settling in. 

I frown in contemplation as I strum quietly at my lute in the flickering firelight. Part of me is, of course, excited to arrive at our destination and see the many wonders that both Gimli and Legolas have spoken of so lovingly. However, I am also a bit apprehensive about going from the company of just my two dear traveling companions to all of Aglarond, where I do not know anyone or how things are done. I have always longed to travel and meet new peoples, but as a second son I did not have many opportunities to venture outside of Gondor, at least not beyond my journeys to the south. In fact, I have only been in Rohan once before, for the funeral of Theoden-King and my own betrothal. 

As if sensing some of my unease, Legolas confides to Gimli, loudly enough for me to hear, "Faramir is frightened of not having enough to do in Aglarond." 

Gimli frowns, "Not have enough to do? In Aglarond?" He says in disbelief. 

Raising an eyebrow at Legolas, whom I am now fairly sure has taken at least a slight amount of umbrage at my interfering in his affairs, I clarify, "It is rather that I am a bit at sea at even the idea of being at loose ends."

Gimli thinks about that for few moments, refilling his pipe, before saying, "Well, I doubt that ye will be bored. We do have a library, after all." He adds the last with a wink, for both he and Legolas know of my love for lore and learning. 

I smile in happy anticipation of that, before it occurs to me that, "I do not speak or read Khuzdul." 

"I can speak it, a little." Legolas offers, "I could, um, try to help you translate, maybe?" He offers, a pained expression on his face. I have to almost bite my lip and look down at my lute strings, in order to avoid laughing at how much discomfort even the idea of voluntarily spending that much time inside the library causes my immortal friend. It is a very kind offer, though. 

"That will not be necessary, Legolas." I say graciously once I have mastered myself, "I am sure that I can find other things to do to occupy my time." 

"Aye." Gimli agrees, puffing contentedly on his pipe, "There is much to see. Even a tour of just the caverns we have cleared as safe would take weeks. And many of them you will want to see at different times of day, for there are places where the light of the sun or the moon and the stars filters in, just so. And there's the celebration of the Autumnal Equinox, as well. Such a feast mortal man has rarely seen, Faramir! It will be enough to put some meat on the bones of even this one." Gimli's large hand fondly pats Legolas's knee. Legolas tries to appear annoyed, but only pulls off fond exasperation. 

"Even if you can't do much reading, Faramir," Legolas points out as he turns to me, "You can still learn quite a bit. The dwarves love to tell tales. Much like the Rohirrim, their oral history is quite rich." 

"Aye, that's true." Gimli agrees, "My cousin Dori, who was in Thorin's company, has come to dwell in Aglarond. He may tell ye that tale, if you ask him sweetly." 

“Better Dori than Dwalin.” Legolas says, not quite under his breath. When Gimli raises an eyebrow, Legolas winces. "I am fairly sure that Dwalin does not like me. Err...not without some cause." He hastily adds, as Gimli shakes his head, "As you are aware, Elvellon, I knew nothing of dwarves when your father and the rest of Thorin's company first traveled through our wood, save what I had learned from my father and tutors which was, ah..." 

"You have both done a great deal to change that." I interject, taking pity on Legolas. 

Gimli pats Legolas on the knee again, and says reassuringly, "Dinna ye worry, lad. Dwalin dwells in Erebor. He is entirely too traditional to have any interest in traveling to Aglarond. His great-nephew though, Vestri, is one of my guard officers. He’s quite a traveler.” 

“Vestri…his sons were the ones who were teaching Greirr how to curse in Westron, were they not?” Legolas recalled. 

Gimli frowned and then shook his head with a rueful chuckle. “Yes, that would be Nyri and Vili. They’re a bit wild yet, just come of age. But good lads, for all of that. Friends of Thorur’s nephew, Skari, which is how they know Grierr.” 

“Skari is the one who studies with Gror, the lore-master, is he not?” Legolas asks. 

“Aye.” Agrees Gimli, “He tells the story of the Quest and the dragon quite well, himself, having heard it a number of times from Dori.” 

Relieved, Legolas tells Gimli, "Your cousin Dori seems to have forgiven me for my part in that, at least." Turning to me, Legolas explains, "Dori was very fond of Bilbo Baggins, and interested in hearing of our adventures with Frodo and his cousins on the Quest." 

"Dori always spoke well of Bilbo." Gimli agrees, his gaze distant. It is Legolas's turn to offer him comfort. I give them a moment, beginning to play a quieter tune in a minor chord without even noticing that I am doing so. 

Legolas smiles slightly. "I expect that you will truly like dwarven music, Faramir. It is merry and quick, but can also be haunting and moving." 

"Frodo told me once that it was the music your people played in that first evening in Bilbo's home which convinced him to join them on their Quest, Gimli." I share with them. 

"Almost all of us play some instrument." Gimli explains, "Even in exile, we played on the road, as we escorted merchant caravans here and there." 

"Really? I did not know that, Elvellon. What instrument do you play?" Legolas inquires. 

Gimli chuckles softly. "Maybe I'll tell ye, lamb, if ye behave yourself until we get to the caves, that is." 

Legolas frowns. Gimli turns to consider me again, then offers, "If Aragorn's influence has resulted in your developing an interest in matters of healing, Faramir, then Lilja would most likely be willing to translate anything you'd like to learn of. She is fascinated by different healing traditions, both human and elven." 

Legolas's eyes widen in recognition, quickly followed alarm. "Too fascinated, Faramir. Entirely too fascinated." He warns me. 

Gimli shakes his head and hides a smile, "Hush, laddie." He reprimands Legolas gently, "We were lucky to have her when ye slipped and fell on the ice." 

Legolas still appears dubious, but Gimli has turned his attention to me again, "There are myriad entertainments in Aglarond, Faramir." 

Gimli proceeds to tell us in glowing terms of the holiday we will be privileged to see as few outsiders are. I fall asleep to the sound of his deep voice, and Legolas’ tenor counterpoint. They truly do behave as if they are father and son.


	7. Chapter 7

The last morning of our journey dawns gray and cloudy, and rain sets in as we continue our journey. It does not seem to bother my companions very much. They are both eagerly anticipating the pleasures and comforts of Aglarond. I allow their high spirits to to buoy my own, and willingly put aside my anxiety about our arrival later today, and about whatever might be happening in Minas Tirith. 

We are well on our way through West Emnet, past where Legolas tells me that Mithrandir met the great horse Shadowfax, when we come upon a trader's wagon mired in a deep rut where some of the stones of the road had been newly washed away. Gimli, gazing upon the scene, mutters darkly about flash-flooding, and having told Marshal Erckenbrand of the West Mark that this patch of the road needed attention. Apparently, no one can be trusted to understand the importance of doing things properly except another dwarf, including road maintenance. 

Legolas doesn't seem to be worried or offended by this lecture. Instead he gazes upon the beleaguered merchants with compassion. 

"Elvellon, we have to help them." 

Gimli sighs, clearly torn between what he sees as his responsibility to get Legolas and I safe within his caves as soon as possible, and his desire to aid these people on their way. And possibly even fix the road, or at least see word taken to the appropriate Rohirric authorities. Dwarves hate to leave anything poorly done, I am learning. 

Deciding that it's time to put in my own copper coin on the side of stopping, I point out, "While whoever has targeted Legolas and I does seem to have a fair amount of money to pay to hired assassins, I don't think that they know us well enough to know that we would do something like abort our journey to aid a stranded caravan." 

Legolas brightens, "That's true. They only went after me when I was where I was supposed to be, such as when I embarked upon pre-planned errands or could be found practicing with my soldiers at set times. When I went off alone would have probably been the best time to try to kill me, but there were no 'accidents' then."

Guessing that what Legolas has just shared will not improve Gimli's state of mind, I suppress a sigh. 

Gimli eyes me narrowly, "Well they certainly knew where to find you, Faramir, when you went about luring them out!" 

I smile wryly. "Not really. We had to publicize the exact route I would be taking rather widely. It took three tries before the men we captured took the bait, so it's safe to say that they needed some help to know where I would be." 

Legolas murmurs something softly as Gimli raises a hand to his face and rubs his forehead. I feel a momentary surge of pity for our dwarven friend, remembering how overwhelmed and defeated I felt when my rangers boasted cheerfully of their near misses with the enemy. 

"Very well," Gimli decides at last, "We'll take a half an hour and see what we can do for these people." 

It ends up taking the better part of three hours. The rain continues, and the heavy, sturdily constructed wagon keeps slipping back into the muck and mire. This despite the best efforts of Gimli, myself, the caravan guards, and two of the burlier merchants. Legolas works marvels keeping the horses and mules calm despite the weather and the slipperiness of the ground, but he still has to call several halts when the rain come faster and the footing worsens. 

I find myself amazed several times at how very strong Gimli is. When one of the merchants nearly gets caught under the wagon as it begins sliding backwards again, Gimli is able to hold the wagon in place almost by himself while half of the rest of us pull the fellow to safety. 

After that, I put my foot down.

"The wagon weighs too much for us to succeed. It has to be off-loaded before we go any further."

I've sadly had a lot of experience with almost everything that can go wrong while transporting goods, as a result of my secret adventures in the south as Farad the merchant. 

A lively argument ensues, about the damage water would do to merchandise, but Gimli adds his voice to mine, and in the end the sturdier goods are moved out of a different wagon and laid on the ground so that the chests of weather-sensitive spices from the far north can be off-loaded. Even empty, the sturdily constructed wagon will be difficult to remove, being made of hard wood with heavy metal fittings. 

While the merchants are lightening the load, Gimli and I work to pad the slope leading out of the hole with well-spaced slats of wood cannibalized from other wagons, dried grass, hay, and rugs, and pull out some of the displaced paving stones to put behind the rear wheels once we start pulling the wagon out again. The horses have been unhitched for the time being, so Legolas is available to aid us and willingly comes to do so. The look on his face informs me that he is unimpressed by the proceedings and probably also thinking something pithy about the foolishness of men, but he has enough tact not to mention anything aloud. 

As we work, Gimli gives me an odd look. 

"I am surprised that a human prince would know so much about anything so practical as righting a foundered wagon." He observes gruffly. 

His tone seems to imply that he is pleasantly surprised. I am taken aback to find how much that warms me. I feel proud, but at the same time uneasy. It reminds me of the rare but treasured moments when I would surprise my father- the old Steward Lord Denethor - and he would be pleased with me. Such times never lasted, and I learned early on not to trust or rely upon the approval of someone in power over me. Such approval and pride was always a transient thing, or something slightly safer but still occasional and far away and to some extent seemingly conditional, in the case of my Uncle Imrahil. In any case, not something that I could rely on if I wanted to stay sane, at least until Aragorn. And it was easier with him, before I knew that he was my true father, and realized that he has a father's power over my heart. Caring how Gimli feels, that he approves of me, in anything like the same way, is confusing and unsettling, even though I have become quite fond of him. Sensing that I have been silent for too long, I summon up a game grin. 

"I was not born a prince." I point out levelly, hoping that neither he nor Legolas will inquire any further. 

Legolas makes a rude noise and describes Boromir as having been, if anything, more entitled than most of the princes Legolas has met.

'Tis true enough that our father - well, Lord Denethor - did rule Gondor much like unto a King. That did not stop Boromir and me from learning some practical things at the academy, and during our summers in Dol Amroth. But since I do not want to get into how I have acquired this particular knowledge, I ask Legolas to please tell us what sample size of "princes" he is working from. It turns out that in his centuries-long life, he has known more princes than I would have expected. The banter distracts us from how cold our hands are getting as we work. When Gimli stops to insist that we need more wood if we are going to accomplish our aim, I elbow Legolas gently and ask him to let me know if I slip into speaking Southron, as I've never fixed a wagon as myself before. Before he can reply, Gimli returns. 

"They are finally done emptying the wagon," Legolas observes hopefully. "Surely we can be done with this now?" 

Gimli and I exchange a patient look.

"Lamb, if we take the time to put some traction on the slope properly and ready the backstops, then it's less likely we'll be slipping in vain once we start up with this again," Gimli explains. 

Legolas sighs but continues to assist without further protest, although I think that he is glad when he can return to the horses. Just before we can set to again, the rain turns from a steady patter into thick sheets of water that soak us within seconds, upsets the horses, and make it impossible to see more than few feet in front of their faces. Eowyn has told me of the autumn rains in Rohan, but before this I had never understood why riders as capable as she and Eomer would respect them so. We are obliged to take cover in the other wagons for a time after we have secured the horses as well as possible beside the wagons. Legolas gets knocked to the ground stopping a mule from running into the hole the wagon is stuck in. It seems that he is just winded, but mindful of our friend's retiring nature when it comes to injuries and inconveniences, Gimli is questioning him about it closely. This leaves me making conversation with the merchants and the caravan guards, who do not think that this delay was an accident. 

"There was a shifty-eyed look to that group of cloth merchants who passed us three nights ago," A rough-mannered guard tells me, as he shares a flask of coffee and something stronger. "They did not like that we are carrying some of the same goods, and belike would want to slow us up." 

"Aye, and I did not care for how they left a third of their party behind at Helm's Deep." A dapper merchant adds, "Five men and ten beasts, staying there, eating their heads off. No one is going to buy silk this late in the season. Why would they do something so costly, with winter coming on, unless they had something to hide?" 

"Mayhap they are smugglers," Someone else suggests, and I find myself in silent agreement, at least based upon the small amount of information I have heard. 

"Or mayhap something worse,” Wonders another guard, whose voice carries the longer consonants of a man of lost Arnor. 

Even as he speaks, he is carefully unrolling some tobacco weed, which is miraculously still dry. He generously comes with me to offer some of his stash to Gimli, and explains their concerns about the other party of merchants, a group which might well have crossed our path had we descended from the mountains down to the road on the evening we decided not to. Gimli and Legolas listen carefully, and Gimli pledges that he will pass the information on to Marshal Erckenbrand at the Hornburg. 

 

The rain lightens to a steady drizzle, and we return to our task. With the wagon unloaded we finally do make good headway, despite the muddy water running into the deepening hole from the direction of the hills. Just as we are mid-way out of the hole the horns of Rohan sound in the distance-a routine patrol. I am grateful to hear them, as they can make sure that these good people get safely to their next destination, but they do give the horses a fright. Out of one ear, I hear Legolas soothing them in rapid, liquid Sindarin, but most of my attention and all of my energy is focused on holding up the wagon. I sense that we are just about to slip back, which is actually the best time to press forward. I want to call to Legolas and the others to pull, now, but I haven't the breath as I strain to hold my share of the heavy wagon's weight. I meet Gimli's eyes just then, and he calls out, in his deep, loud voice, that now is the time to pull. Legolas' higher voice echoes the command, and the wagon at last rolls up out of the rut and onto the road. 

"Well done, lads!" Gimli calls out, slapping me on the back so heartily that I nearly falter and fall into the hole myself. Legolas catches me with an arm around my shoulders, and Gimli favors him with the same congratulatory gesture. I can't help but grin back at the infectious enthusiasm, and I find myself proud as well, more so than a victory over mired wagon should deserve. 

The merchants are very grateful for our efforts, singing our praises and offering us payment for our time and trouble. The Riders of Rohan finally arrive just as Gimli is graciously refusing their offer. He gently shoves Legolas and me towards the back of the caravan as the leader of the Rohirrim in our midst turns out to be none other than Marshal Erckenbrand of the Western Mark. Erckenbrand would likely recognize the both of us, me from King Théoden’s funeral and Legolas from his heroism during the siege of Helm's Deep. It galls me to be sent away, but I understand the need for it, or at least I understand why Gimli feels it is needful and respect his right to make that decision. 

Legolas and I end up speaking with the younger merchants and several of the Riders who have come to look at the wares on offer while their Captain is otherwise occupied. I bite back a gentle suggestion that they be about their duties, and see Legolas doing the same. We exchange a rueful smile, but the both of us come to attention as the topic of the suspicious trading party comes up again. It turns out that the group had first arrived at Helm's Deep less than a week before the first attempt was made on my life.

I frown thoughtfully, beginning to wonder if there might be a connection between the plot against Legolas and me, and the five suspicious traders who remained at Helm's Deep. Before I can think on the matter much further, the Riders are mustering up to escort the caravan to the next town large enough to have a wheelwright. It seems that Gimli has successfully convinced Marshal Erkenbrand that he and his two 'human' companions are more than capable of seeing ourselves safely to Aglarond.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in this particular tale, but it will be followed up immediately by a sequel that tells of the visit to Aglarond. Thanks to all who have read and left kudos. We appreciate your support.

[Legolas POV] 

It seems odd to say that this has been a good couple of days but despite the rain and the mud and being assaulted by a mule things are better or at least I feel better about how my life is now going, mainly because I am on much better terms with my dwarven guardian. Gimli may say that my thinking he was still angry with me after what happened in Ithilien was all in my featherhead but I am not so sure. Not that it matters now and I am determined to behave myself in such a fashion as to give Gimli no trouble at all. That determination does not include Faramir however. While his snitching on me to Gimli may have helped I still feel he should not have done it and I am enjoying teasing him a little over what he may find at Aglarond. I have been careful not to overdo it though, not with Gimli so close by. Still it has been an amusing way to spend our traveling time and Gimli obviously does not disapprove too much for did not gainsay me when I intimated that the library in Aglarond is full of books written in Khuzdul and that there will be nothing there for him to read which is not true at all. 

Something I do hope to pursue when we arrive is the question of which musical instrument it is that Gimli plays and why he has never shown any inclination to play when he is in the outer world. Perhaps it is something to do with Dwarven tradition for many of their customs and rituals are kept secret from outworlders such as myself and Faramir, although having been adopted into Gimli’s clan I am allowed more freedom than most. Having said that, the dwarves did play when they went to Bilbo Baggins so perhaps it has more to do with the fact that Gimli is not a very good musician. I will have to ask Mam or perhaps Dorbryn.

Gimli comes in shaking the rain from his beard and wanting to know whether I have been hurt by the obdurate mule. I assure him I am fine but he will no doubt keep an eye on me just in case I am not telling him the whole story. I am saved from one of his interrogations when he is offered some pipe weed and I escape outside. Better the rain than the smell of his pipe in such an enclosed place as the wagon.  
I watch the rain falling and ponder on the reception we will get when we arrive at Aglarond.

If it were not for this enforced stop to help the merchants we would be almost at the Glittering Caves by now. I can scarcely wait to see what Faramir will make of Gimli’s home. It is the most wonderful place and his people are in the main the most generous hearted of folk. I have been fortunate that they have accepted me as well as they have although few there would choose to go up against either their Lord, and Gimli is very fond of Faramir. I hope that will be enough to ensure he has a pleasant time when he stays with us. 

 

I am still thinking of this when the rain finally begins to peter out and we go back to trying to save the wagon.

Just as we have achieved that I hear the sound of horses, and bring both Faramir’s and Gimli’s attention to it. I do not fear it is this group of smugglers that the merchants talked about for I recognize the horn and know it to be one of Eomer’s eored patrols. It is a pity they did not arrive a few hours earlier, their help would have made our task all the easier.

I am about to go and welcome their arrival when Gimli pushes Faramir and me off behind the wagons and warns us to remain out of sight as the leader of the patrol is none other than Erkenbrand. I think Gimli is being over cautious but choose not to argue when he gives me one of his frowns so I retreat with Faramir and wait for the all clear before retrieving our mounts and finally turning them towards the northern valleys of the White Mountains and Gimli’s home.   
[Faramir POV] 

As we part company from the Riders and the caravan, Legolas and I fill Gimli in on the additional information we just learned. Gimli considers it pensively, but thinks that whatever illegal activities might be going on, they have nothing to do with the persons threatening Legolas and I. 

"Merchants, coming from this far away? Faramir, the increased traffic and demand in Helm's Deep since the end of the war has brought in a lot of smugglers and the ilk. My kin and I have been working closely with Erkenbrand and his folk to stop such goings-on. But I judge it unlikely to be anything more than that." 

I sigh, tired of feeling that my opinion is being ignored. I want to argue, but it is true that Gimli is more familiar with patterns of law-breaking in his backyard than I would be. Besides, his mind seems to be made-up, and if I do decide that the issue needs to be looked into further and that it might be best for me to attempt to do so directly, it would be counterproductive to take a strong stand now. And on top of all of that, I do not wish to argue with Gimli or upset Legolas, as a general matter, and even more so after they have both been so kind to me on this trip. I do inform Gimli that I would like to write to Aragorn and let him know of these rumors and the results of the investigations by the Rohirric authorities. Gimli has no objection to that, once Legolas and I are settled. Messengers go back and forth between Aglarond and Minas Tirith on a very frequent basis, so it is not something that will be remarked upon. 

All thoughts of such matters fly from my head as the great fortress and the mountains that dwarf it loom up before us. The lanterns of the tower blaze bright against the approaching night. It is like Minas Tirith, but at the same time harder, and wilder, and in this moment I regret not at all having come here. 

Gimli and Legolas obligingly pause for me to play spectator. "And if you think this is a sight worth seeing," Gimli boasts, "Just wait until we get inside the mountain." 

"It was here that you and a mere vanguard of Riders held a tide of orcs and uruk-hai at bay." I murmur, amazed anew at that feat, seeing the fortress and its formidable but inadequate defenses laid out before me. 

"We all did our part." Gimli says gruffly.

"Although I won," Legolas adds, rather a non-sequitur until I remember their darkly funny, and ongoing, tally of who has killed more enemies. I don't even know what numbers they have reached now, and in all honesty I am not sure that they have kept track accurately either, but the topic never fails to provoke a lively debate about who is in fact ahead in this contest. 

"Why, ye pointy-eared poacher! That orc was dead before ye even wasted an arrow on him, and ye know it" Gimli scolds theatrically, although even I can tell that he is actually amused. I smile at their antics, which takes my mind off of the mud and sweat from our good deed of the day. I have done my best to clean it off, and Gimli and Legolas look little better, but it is not how I had hoped to arrive at a new place. To my surprise, we turn off the road towards the main entrance and approach what at first seems to be the sheer face of the cliff. At some sign from Gimli, a passage opens in the rock. A dwarf a little shorter and much rounder than Gimli exchanges a cheerful greeting with him, staring at Legolas and I but then offering us a gracious welcome once Gimli makes it clear that we are his guests. The dwarven sentry taps loudly on the wall, and after less than a minute another dwarf appears. He has a long white beard and exclaims with delight upon seeing both of my friends. Legolas greets him carefully in what I assume must be Khuzdul, which only makes him happier. That fellow collects our horses, and heads off in another direction. I am not as much of a horse-lover as my wife, so I am surprised to find myself so bereft by the departure of Blythe, and Arod, and even Gimli's stubborn pony Ruby, who livened up our parting by doing his best to take a bite out of the sentry. 

At first the tunnel we pass through appears dark, which I am grateful for as it allows me to regain my composure unnoticed. Then as we continue on, the tunnel brightens and glimmers, taking my breath away with its surprising beauty. 

"This is lovely." I tell Gimli. 

He smiles knowingly. Legolas snickers. 

"'I suppose 'tis pretty enough, Faramir, for a back entrance. But it's just mica, rose quartz, and agate, and not much even of that." Gimli tells me kindly, in the tone of someone who knows that they have a very fine surprise to unveil. 

"Just wait until we get to a main cavern, Faramir." Legolas agrees. 

My anticipation of wonder overcomes my anxiety as I follow in their wake, unsure what Aglarond will bring but grateful for this chance to see it in the company of such good friends.


End file.
